


Female Lance Prompts

by lunadiane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abortion, Accidental Pregnancy, Alien Planet, Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Beach Episode, Blood and Gore, College AU, Consensual Non-Consent, Dildos, Espionage, Female Lance, Fluff, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Getting into a relationship, Langst, Multi, Pegging, Princess Allura (Voltron), Realdoes, Seamstress Lance, Spies & Secret Agents, Tailor Lance, Vampires, Violence, dominant lance, height woes, platonic klance, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-05-29 00:31:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15061133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunadiane/pseuds/lunadiane
Summary: A collection of prompts centering around a female Lance McClain. Request through the comments.Prompt #5 by Gia: Serial Killer Klance AUOriginal prompt #6: Altean seamstress Lance as a wartime spy.Prompt #7 by Blue_Queen662: Avatar AU domestic fluff, waterbender Lance and firebender KeithOriginal prompt #8: Vampire AU, shance





	1. Requests

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts will not be answered in chronological order and may vary in length.

Hello, I'd like to get more into writing fem!lance, so just drop any requests in the comments and I'll fill them.


	2. Top!Lance, Pegging, Keith/Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by Gia: Top!Lance, Keith/Lance, Pegging, Realdoes.
> 
> I suggest you google 'realdoe' if that's unfamiliar to you, but it's a dildo so NSFW.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my interpretation of Lance topping is that she gets off on giving pleasure, and discovers some dominant elements of herself in how she likes seeing Keith under her. wink.

“You doing good, baby?”

Keith’s breathing is sharp and quick, his chest heaving with one of her fingers rubbing inside him.

His knuckles pressed to his lips, he nods, cheeks flushed a pretty pink that contrasts beautifully with his pale skin. Lance is kneeling between his legs in lingerie she gets out for special occasions like this - bra, stockings, garters and crotchless panties in black lace.

His jeans and shirt are hanging precariously off Lance’s chair at her desk, and he’s laid out on her navy sheets in her college dorm. Against the dark backdrop, every line of his toned, muscular body is thrown into sharp relief, with his black hair splayed out around his face like a wild mane.

She revels in seeing Keith entirely spread out like this, naked and at her mercy. The door is locked and the curtains drawn. No one can disturb them, and Lance has Keith all to herself.

She knows when she’s found his prostate when his cock plumps against his thigh and he jerks, letting out a moan. “T-There, right there.” Keith babbles. A smirk spreads over Lance’s face at how disheveled he becomes from just her one finger, twitching as she rubs circles around that firm little bundle inside him. He’s looking away from her, pride wounded at his pleasured and vulnerable expression, which is concerning, but absolutely adorable.

“You don’t have to hide, Keith.” Lance hums, stroking his inner thigh with her other hand. “You’re so cute like this.”

“L-Lance-” Keith pants, and he muffles a needy whine with the back of his hand when she withdraws her fingers. “‘M not cute.” He grumbles, to Lance’s giggles.

She pecks his knee. “Yes you are, you’re the cutest boy I know.”

“I’m adding another finger now.” She says before he can retort, nudging his lube-smeared hole with the tip of her fingers. The first finger slips in easily, and she gradually worms in the second, caressing Keith as he hisses, his hole stretching to accommodate the wider girth. Once they’re both inside him, Lance pulls her fingers out slightly before slowly thrusting inside him, feeling his insides tighten.

“Relax, Keith. That’s a good boy.”

Lance’s eyes go wide and she blushes at the words that tumble out of her mouth, nevermind that Keith is naked in her bed and she has two fingers in him. They just - felt right. “Is that a kink for you?” Keith teases, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her with half-lidded eyes.

“Maaaaybe.” She smirks and pushes him back down with a hand on his chest, going right back to fingering him. Keith’s breaths become ragged when she brushes against his prostate again. His cock is completely hard now, red and erect, his blush extending down to his shoulders. “How does that feel?”

“G-Good. Hurts a little, but I’m ok.”

“You think you’re ready?”

“Yeah.”

He nods, brows coming together in his default determined look that people always mistake for anger. Pulling her fingers out, Lance sits on her heels to pick up the realdoe next to her and coat both ends with lubricant. She slips two fingers inside to loosen herself up a bit while rubbing her clit for good measure, pleasure flaring up in her loins at the friction. Rising up, she grinds the bulb against her already wet and excited cunt, spreading her folds and readying herself to take it inside her.

Keith eyes it warily. “That looks...big.”

“That’s what she said.”

“No, really!” He protests, flushing a deeper red as he looks away. Lance laughs, slowly easing one end of the realdoe inside her. He’s just nervous, after all. It’s his first time getting fucked in the ass. “I don’t want it to hurt.”

“Well, that’s how girls feel losing their virginity.” Climbing on top of him, she pushes his hair away from his face and kisses his forehead. “Just relax.” Lance murmurs, rubbing the head of the dildo against his hole and balls, and Keith gazes at her with half-open eyes, lips parted ever so slightly. “It might hurt a bit, but it’ll feel good.” She reassures him. The trust he has in her, in his eyes, burns.

Her hands cage his body between them as she finds his hole and prods it with the tip, Keith’s mouth falling open in an exhale as he feels the head slip inside him. His face scrunches up and eyes shut as she pushes into him. “Breathe.” Lance says, touching his face when he holds his breath. “It’ll feel better, I promise.”

“It hurts a bit.” He admits. “But not when you don’t move.”

Gently, Lance inches forward, the dildo sinking into him ever so slowly, waiting each time for him to get accustomed to the stretch like how he did during their first time. She kisses and strokes him where she can, on his arms and chest, his pink cheeks, giving his dick a few tugs to distract him and he moans. God knows she loves being touched during sex, and she wants Keith to feel that too.

He leans forward, upward, pushing himself up with his hands, and their lips meet.

“Thanks for doing this.” He murmurs against her lips

“Anything for you, babe.”

Head flopped back onto the bed, Keith shuts his eyes just to feel as she rocks slowly in and out of him, getting him nice and loose. Rolling her hips downward, the ridges on the realdoe catch against her clit, and Lance breathes in hard as pleasure blooms in her abdomen.

She’d found this uniquely shaped dildo on the internet and had always wanted to try it. It was admittedly designed for women, if all the lesbian porn about it meant anything, but hey, Lance was the most flexible person she knew.

She was so glad Keith wanted to try pegging. Having him beneath her, deriving pleasure from her, was insanely hot.

Lost in the moment, Lance forgets where she is and grinds down against her clit, slamming into Keith. He spasms and jerks away from her. “W-wait!” He begs, his eyes snapping wide open as he grips her hip. Lance immediately halts. “Yeah. Yeah. Too fast?” She grimaces and Keith nods.

“Sorry.” She apologizes, kissing him.

“Just - not so hard. Or fast.” Keith says meekly, in the most vulnerable tone of voice she’s ever heard him use. Lance sits back on her heels with a determined expression on her face, caressing his thighs.

“Alright, I got this.” She’s gonna do this right. Gonna blow his mind.

She angles her hips up in the vague direction of his prostate, and Keith trembles when she brushes against his sensitive spot. “Found it.” Lance drawls, satisfied. Her perfect aim is why they call her the sharpshooter.

She briefly toys with the idea of pushing the entire dildo into him, but that isn’t the point here. Maybe next time after Keith’s used to having something up his ass. Her hands behind his knees, folding his legs back and up, Lance leans forward to grind her clit against the ridges, her tongue sticking out a little.

“Haa-” Lance pants at the sensation, and as if on cue, Keith moans after her. “Good?” She asks him as he cracks an eye open, and he nods quick and tight, sucking his lip into his mouth.

Rolling her hips, she keeps a steady rhythm of rubbing against his prostate, watching his chest rise and fall and his breaths slowly quicken. He’s now stupid hard, cock erect and bobbing against his navel as clear precum gathers around the tip. She feels so warm, heat building inside her as the ridges drag against her clit, and the bulb moves with her thrusts, massaging her walls. Everything’s heightened by how turned on she is. Slick has been dripping down her folds just building up to this, having Keith on her bed and getting to finger him, touch him in ways no one else ever has.

Lance leans forward, Keith kicking involuntarily as she pushes deeper into him. “Sorry.” She murmurs again, her hips trembling a little as she thrusts. _Fuck like you’re riding him,_ Lance repeats in her mind as she bucks her hips and tries to keep as smooth and steady as possible. Her hands are on his thighs as he sucks in air, stroking them upward in repeated motions and she feels them shaking, twitching as they open and close when she brushes against his spot again. She can feel him move through the realdoe, the bulb tugging against her walls when he jerks and when his hole sucks it back in.

“Ngh-” Keith grunts, biting down on his lower lip. He’s panting with his mouth hanging open, eyes fluttering shut to relish the pleasure blooming in his loins, before splitting open when the feeling pulses within him. The cheap dorm bed creaks rhythmically and his entire body shifts with her movements, the telltale sounds of sex made even more blatant by his moans.

She’s fucking her boyfriend into her bed, and the sight makes her cunt throb.

  
A flame has been struck on the embers of her pleasure, and every movement feels electric. “Touch me, please-” Lance groans, and Keith obliges, his fingers slipping under her bra to fondle her breasts and caress her navel, hands on her waist as if he was guiding her to fuck him.

“N-Needy, aren’t we?” Keith smirks inbetween his own noises.

Lance unbuckles her lacy bra and tosses it over her head, whimpering as Keith plays with her nipples, his hands dragging down her arms. _Touch me, touch me._ She needed it like a plant needed water, no matter what kind of sex it was.

She’s kissing his neck, nipping with her teeth as Keith squeezes her breasts, but he suddenly stops short, eyes wide and a choked moan falling out of him at a particularly good thrust against his prostate. “Fuck, yes, Lance - please-” He pleads, teeth clenched together. “Mmh-” Keith tries to muffle his sounds with his hand, but Lance pulls it away. “I want to hear you.” She demands, no, she needs to hear him.

He whines like a child, frantically shaking his head as he bites down and sucks in air, one leg repeatedly kicking at the mattress as Lance fucks him . She watches him with clouded eyes - she’s never seen him this undone before - as his cock twitches and bobs, beads of clear precum dripping onto his navel. “I-I’m - fuck - close - Lance - ”

“Yeah? Me too.” Lance murmurs heavily. “You’re doing so good, Keith.” She babbles, grinding against him, feeling him shudder and throw his head back. “You look so good...beneath me…” There’s an ache crawling up her thighs to her hips, threatening to turn into a cramp from how she’s been bucking and thrusting into him, but she doesn’t care. All she cares about is getting off, rolling her hips, slamming into him, getting Keith off.

She can feel the pleasure take root in her base of her back, building up as her core tightens. It’s coming - She’s gonna come, and she hopes to God that Keith is too. More than a little desperate, she curls her fingers around Keith’s dick and he jolts, mouth falling open to moan the loudest she’s ever heard him.

“Haaah-!”

Their fingers entangle around his dick, and Lance snaps her hips as she comes close to the edge and pulls herself back, savoring how Keith arches his back upward. “Fuck-!” He yells, toes curling, “Don’t stop!”, and covers his eyes with the back of his arm as Lance strokes him to completion. He quakes beneath her with a resounding cry as he cums on his stomach. Lance groans. She grips the back of his knees and grinds hard, her entire world narrowing down to the delicious drag of those tiny bumps against her clit.

“Lance!” Keith whimpers brokenly, still shaking, grabbing her hips in a panic as she pounds into his abused, overstimulated prostate, forcing out the last few droplets of cum. “Just a bit more-” Lance pleads, until she finally lets go.

When her release has finally thundered through her, Lance opens her eyes, still panting heavily. Keith is beneath her, breathing just as hard, hair a mess, his legs spread and looking absolutely wrecked as his cum dries on his stomach.

She’s the first to speak. “Why did it take us so long to do this?”

“I should have totally asked you earlier.” Keith grins. Lance slowly pulls out of Keith and eases the other end out of her pussy, the bulb drenched and shiny with her slick. She leans over to grab a tissue from the nightstand and cleans Keith up, crawling over to press their bodies together and cuddle, legs tangling together.

“I wasn’t sure how you were going to react to me wanting something up my ass.” Keith admits, chest still heaving. “I know some straight girls aren’t into that, they’d think I was gay and would cheat on them with other guys.”

“Well, I wouldn’t. I may be basic but the one thing I’m not is straight.”

“You said it, not me.” Keith joked, and Lance stuck out her tongue at him.

“I completely blow your mind and this is the thanks I get? Lousy boyfriend.” She complains, as Keith kisses her neck.

“But really, thank you.” Keith murmurs sincerely. Lance’s eyes soften. “I should be thanking you, I’ve always wanted to peg the fuck out of you. And you were so cute~” She singsongs, curling his hair around her finger as Keith furrows his brows.

“No I’m not.” He mutters, ears blushing.

“Yes you are.” Lance insists. She is forever blessed with the image of a needy, blushy Keith beneath her. “We are definitely doing this again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked this prompt, and I wanted to do it justice, but....I don't think it turned out that well. I'll let y'all judge the quality of my writing here.


	3. Height Woes, Fluff, Keith/Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by Nachtnight  
> 'I like to think that Lance is a really tall girl, people would mock her that she wouldn't get a biyfriend.
> 
> yet here he was, Keith Kogane.
> 
> Best boyfriend ever.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me2me: examine how boys and girls are held up to physical standards like height in terms of social conventions of attractiveness in a much longer piece than you expected to write  
> me: but why tho  
> me2me: just do it

“What kind of boy do you like?” 

 

Veronica loves having sleepovers with her friends, and she lets Lance join in since she’s her younger sister. Mami won’t let Veronica stay overnight at her friends’ houses because she doesn’t trust strangers to care for her precious eldest daughter,  so all the sleepovers will have to take place at their house instead. On these nights, their room - the Girls’ Room - is strictly off-limits to their brothers, because no boys are allowed at their sleepovers. 

 

Gracie, Veronica’s best friend with several bows in her messy hair, looks up from painting Lance’s fingernails a glittery pink. “Handsome boys, obviously.” She says loftily, and the girls giggle. “He’s gotta be nicer to me than he is to anyone else. Dark hair.” She looks thoughtful, before lighting up. “Most importantly, he needs to be taller than me!” 

 

“Uh,  _ obviously! _ ” Veronica parrots, and then launches into talking about her celebrity crushes. Lance, blue eyes shining from excitement at another fun sleepover, listens intently as the older girls talk about the ideal boy, watches the movies they put on featuring tall, dark and handsome boys with a heart of gold falling for the female lead shorter than him by a head.

 

* * *

 

 

A few years pass, and Lance is quickly shooting up thanks to puberty.  She’s nearly as tall as Veronica now, who is already taller than their Mami, and is one of the tallest in her class, even towering over the boys. This unfortunately means she gets called on a lot more by teachers. 

 

Lance opens the towers of shoeboxes around and peers inside, intrigued when a different shoe is revealed. It’s Saturday and Mami has taken them out to buy groceries at the mall, plus Marco needs new shoes. She’s left to idly poke around the shop as Mami remarks on the shoes Marco has chosen and is trying on. 

 

A pair catches her eye. The wedge sandals are a pale birchwood colour and have straps of light blue and white, bows on the front strap and at the ankle. It’s on a high shelf, and Lance’s tongue pokes out as she stands on her tiptoes, arm stretching up to reach it.

 

The show pair are too big for her, but she can still slip them on. She clomps to the low mirror and grins, how pretty! They’d go perfectly with her wardrobe and all her blue things. 

 

“Mami, I want these shoes!” She calls out, walking to her mother who is still preoccupied with Marco, and Mami, predictably, immediately says no. “You already have so many shoes you don’t wear!” “Yes I do!” Lance protests. 

 

She puts a lot of effort into her wardrobe, and she needs all those shoes to coordinate with her outfits! Mami still shakes her head no.

 

“Those shoes make you too tall! You’ll never find a boyfriend like that!”

 

* * *

 

 

High school is when Lance realizes Mami is right, after working up the courage to confess to her crush, a blond boy in the class next to hers with the greenest eyes she has ever seen.

 

His smile is pleased and careless, pleased that  _ a girl  _ likes him, and careless as he laughs and says. “Uh, sorry, but I don’t go out with girls taller than me.”

 

His posse laughs, and Lance feels humiliation and heartbreak roll over her, fighting back the tears that well up in her eyes. She won’t cry. Not in school. She can’t. 

 

Her lips tremble, and her eyes helplessly sweep across the other students sneering and laughing and surely spreading this gossip on their phones at this very moment.  _ Lance McClain confessed to Chris and of course he turned her down, she’s too tall! Who wants to date someone like that? _

 

A large chunk of her crush on him dies at that statement, but it’s still there, and it hurts. Before she can embarrass herself further, Lance turns and runs. 

 

* * *

  
  
  


She’s in college now, grown taller, grown past her adolescent insecurities. She knows guys like to look at her long legs, she basks in it, showing off her smooth, slender legs to the world with shorts and miniskirts and heels Mami would gasp at.

 

If a guy thinks she’s not worth it because she’s too tall, then they can fuck right off. They don’t deserve her, and they have only themselves to blame for giving up on all  _ this. _

 

She has her own friend group too, Hunk and Pidge who will stick with her through anything with only mild complaining, the amazing and beautiful Allura, and Shiro, a physical Adonis, capable and kind and intelligent. No one really knows why the latter two would deign to hang around them. 

 

Finally there’s Keith, an old friend of Shiro, a classmate who just came along, never left, and become a part of them. He’s prickly and standoffish and easily agitated, and he has dumb hair that stops at his shoulders plus a favourite knife he carries around everywhere, but he’s dorky and sweet to his friends with a wicked sense of humour and an adorable laugh.

 

Lance is in love with him.

 

It’s a Friday evening, and one of their classmates is throwing a party. It’s nothing too crazy (yet), people milling around and mostly chatting to each other, the door periodically opening and closing as new people come in. There’s pizza, chips, booze and drinks, the main dietary requirements of a college party. Lance has juice spiked with booze, because booze tastes like sour disinfectant scrubbing her tongue and throat. 

 

Music is booming in the background. Pidge isn’t here and likely isn’t coming, Allura and Shiro have attracted a pretty large crowd like the stars they are, and Hunk is talking to some of his friends from engineering. That just leaves her, and Keith.

 

She’s alone, and Keith is, oddly enough, surrounded by frat guys, and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else than here. Lance creeps closer, trying not to be noticed, leaning against a nearby wall and pretending to be absorbed in her drink, which she is very, very slowly sipping from.

 

“So how about Romelle?” 

 

“What about her?” Keith deadpans. 

 

Romelle’s from Chemical Engineering, a classic blonde with dark blue eyes and pale skin, long hair that she likes to put in two tails which, admittedly, is really cute. She’s cute. Lance can admit that. 

 

“You should totally make a move on her, man. She’s cute! Plus, she’s shorter than you.”

 

The tone the fratboy uses suggests that it’s a plus, and Lance’s heart sinks. Of course, that’s what guys like. A small and cute girl they can tower over.

 

“Not interested.” Keith says, which gives Lance a bit of hope. 

 

“Dude, c’mon. You’re pretty short for a guy, and there aren’t that many girls shorter than you. Girls like guys taller than them, don’t you know? You should-”

 

“Oh, really?” Keith interrupts, visibly agitated. That has to be a new record to tick him off, Lance thinks, watching wide-eyed from the rim of her cup. Or maybe he’s already tipsy. “How the fuck would you know that?”

 

“Whoa. Touchy much, dude? I mean, just look around. You never see a girl with a boyfriend shorter than her-”

 

“Yeah, well, I don’t care.” Keith says irritably, and leaves, shouldering past them amid their offended squawks of “the fuck, dude?” “this is what I get from trying to help a brother out-”

 

After refilling her drink, hardly seeing what she pours into her cup so that she won’t lose sight of him, Lance follows after him. Man, Keith seems  _ pissed. _ She finds him at the corner of the house, away from the rest of the party, which is depressingly reminiscent of how he always used to be before he joined their friend group. 

 

“Heeeey, Mullet. What’s up? Why’re you being a loner here?” Lance offers.

 

In her favourite pair of skyscraper heels, she’s nearly a head taller than him. Lance fights down the urge to treat his shoulder as a personal armrest, god, that would be so insensitive. Now’s not the time.

 

His eyes flash wide for a moment, before he’s back to looking at her through his eyelashes with a guarded expression.

 

“Did you eavesdrop?” 

 

“Uhh, No?”  _ Yes. _ “I just happened to pass by when some fratboy was telling you girls don’t like short guys.”

 

“So you were, then.” Keith takes a swig from his cup.

 

“Not  _ intentionally! _ ” Lance retorts. “And hey, they’re wrong. There’s definitely girls out there who don’t care about height.”

 

“Most of them still do.” Keith says, and his gaze dips away, disappointed. Lance swallows. She never knew how much this affected him.

 

“Yeah, which is, like, whatever, you know? It’s dumb.” Lance continues. “Personality is what counts. I would totally date a shorter guy. Like, uh.” She falters. Lance knows she’s rambling, but hey, she’s here with a mission to cheer up Keith when he’s down. “Who wants to date a tall asshole anyway?”

 

Keith’s looking at her in bemusement and what looks like - hope? Lance laughs nervously, trying to hide the truth that she would totally date him, even though she never even said that. Insinuated, maybe. But saying you’d date a shorter guy is just so incredibly unspecific. 

 

“You would?” He asks cautiously.

 

“Well, yeah. If he’s hot and nice, anything goes.” Lance throws in a wink, hoping that Keith doesn’t call her bluff. “What about you?” She asks gingerly. “Would you date a tall girl?”

 

“Definitely.” He says, resolute. 

 

“Cool, cool.” Lance’s face is ironically hot, which means she’s blushing. Shit. Nevermind. She can just blame that on the alcohol. Nervously, she gulps down her drink and gags a little. Ugh. There’s too much booze in this. Maybe it  _ is  _ the alcohol. “Y’know, like how guys say they’d never date a taller girl and all.” 

 

“That’s dumb.” Keith says, and he’s smiling now, which makes Lance smile back. Being here, away from the party, doesn’t seem so bad all of a sudden if she’s here with him. It’s...nice. Comfortable. “As dumb as girls saying that they don’t like shorter guys.” 

 

“I know, right? I mean, I’d totally date you!”

 

_ Shit, shit shit shit.  _ Lance laughs awkwardly, trying to joke it away as she swallows more juice-spiked booze. Goddamn alcohol. 

 

“Would you really?”

 

His voice is so soft and full of hope that Lance can’t help but meet his eyes. The earlier disgruntled expression on his face has completely melted away, replaced with large violet eyes and gentle eyebrows, lips parted. She can’t look away.

 

“Yeah.” Lance hears herself say, her chest heaving.

 

They’re close. The party sounds like a million miles away.

 

“Me too, Lance.” Keith murmurs, and Lance wants to save this, to burn this into memory and tape, because Keith Kogane looks and sounds so gentle that she can hardly bear it. “I - I wanna - I wanna date you.” He confesses, suddenly shy and looking away. 

 

“Then let’s date.” Lance answers, throws caution to the wind, and kisses him.

 

She has to lean down a bit, and Keith’s mouth tastes a lot like booze and a bit like the lemon fizzy drink available as one of the non-alcoholic drinks, but all Lance can think about with her blood raging in her ears is how she told him.  _ Let’s date. Let’s date let’s date let’s date let’s date. _

 

“I have wanted to do that for so long.” Lance blurts out. She seems to be missing her usual filter, which she’s blaming on the alcohol, but it’s going great for her so far. 

 

“Oh, yeah?” He smirks, and it’s unfair how positively handsome he looks like that. “Since when?”

 

“Since we were in the same group for our first project.” Lance admits truthfully. “Since you became a part of our friend group. And now you’re my tiny boyfriend.” She declares proudly, ruffling his hair. Keith rolls his eyes, but an affectionate smile still plays on his lips as he slings his arm around her waist. 

 

“And you’re my tall, pretty girlfriend.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> flustered klance getting into a relationship is my favourite, also rip smaller keith, s6 made you older cooler taller and more grizzled


	4. Accidental Pregnancy, Keith/Lance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for a tumblr prompt where Keith and Lance have a secret relationship, and Lance accidentally gets knocked up. HOLY BALLS i did not expect this to get this long.

 

It only becomes apparent that it’s a bad day when Lance is presented with breakfast.

It’s the same food goo as always, bright glutinuous green and sticking to each crevice and and tooth in her mouth when she takes a bite. She swallows it and struggles through a few half-filled spoonfuls before bile starts rising in her throat.

The others stares at her as she grabs her mouth and books it for the restroom.

“Is Lance okay?”

“She looked kinda pale when she came in…”

“Maybe she’s sick?”

She just can’t stomach another bite when she gets back from throwing up what little she has in her stomach, even with Coran’s coaxing. “‘M just not hungry.” Lance says, shrugging and grinning sheepishly, because she feels terrible directly turning down the man.

“Are you okay?” Hunk asks her anxiously and Lance sighs dramatically in reply. “I feel shitty. Kinda like that pre-fever feel, y’know? Like when you can feel it coming.”

Allura speaks up next. “I'm sorry you don't feel good, Lance. Are you falling ill?”

“I think so.”

“It's not too bad now, is it?”

Lance shakes her head not. She feels a little bloaty and sick, but it's nothing she can't handle. “I'm okay. We can still go on that mission.”

They're on a diplomatic duty today, and Lance knows that they need all five paladins to form Voltron as the strongest show of protection. It's not too taxing or major, Lance will be fine.

 

 

 

 

 

Lance is not fine.

No, there weren't any Galra attacks or battles to fight through, but all of their aerial tricks and displays are making her head turn and her stomach threaten to hurl. This isn't normal - she's never felt this way and she's done these barrel rolls a ton of times before - so what gives?

This kind of nausea is either 1) she's dying 2) she's pregnant 3) she has stomach flu - wait. Is she pregnant?

It's sort of far-fetched, but maybe she could be?

She hasn't seen Keith in a while.

She didn't eat anything weird before today, it was a long spell on the Castleship.

Keith always pulled out, but you never know, they never had any birth control.

 

* * *

 

  
_Inbetween mission briefings and discussions, Keith manages to take a break, and is striding through the hallways of the Castleship when he’s pulled aside by Lance._

_Immediately her lips at on his as she presses him against the wall. “Keith-” She breathes, and he’s quick to respond, kissing back, his arms encircling her around the waist and parting his lips for her to nibble on. “You’ve been away for so long. I missed you so much.”_

_“I missed you too.” Keith murmurs back. Her long hair spills onto his shoulders as she cups his face in her hands and tries to hide her annoyance at how the Paladin breastplate keeps them apart. His Blade of Marmorra suit is just against his skin, barely hiding anything, and the contact between them sets her nerves alight, with only two layers of cloth between them._

_Her hands drops to his, and she pulls his hands away from her waist and leads him back to her room. It’s been too long._

_“Mmmm.” Lance hums as he slides into her needy cunt, revelling in the familiar feeling. Free of both of their suits, she’s warmed by the heat of his body against hers. Her hair is pooling all around her head with her lying on the bed, Keith between her legs._

_“You’re so hard, babe. Missed me, hmm?” Lance teases._

_“Haven’t gotten to fuck you since I last left.” Keith grunts. “Being with the blades is either missions or sleep.”_

_“Not even time to jerk off?” She wonders, further spreading her thighs apart as he slides in and out of her._

_“No.” He pushes her hands into the bed to nip at her neck as their fingers entwine around each other. “Nothing - at all - God - “ He gasps at her slick heat around him._

_Soon, she’s pushed him into the sheets and is riding him, eagerly chasing her own pleasure. “Keith - aah - Aaah-” Lance moans his name, grinding down on his cock and addicted to the sensations it stirs within her._

_“I'm - gonna cum- “ Keith chokes, and Lance urgently grips his shoulder. “Not yet! Not inside me!” Of all the inconvenient times - “I'm gonna cum too, nngh - you need to-”_

_The temptation to just keep bouncing on his dick until he spills his warm, sticky release inside her is too strong, but Lance struggles to control herself, whimpering. There’s no birth control. She's so close - all he needs is to hold back a little- “not yet, Keith- wait -” she begs, frantically rubbing her clit._

_Her walls seize up and her climax rages through her, from the curling of her toes to her eyes rolling back in her head and Lance makes a strangled noise, forcing herself to pull off his dick. Faintly, she feels drops of his semen spray onto her cunt, but she made it. He didn't cum inside her._

_A satisfied, lazy grin spreading on her face, she's panting while leaning down to kiss him again, body quaking pleasantly after her orgasm._

_“Kolivan is going to beat my ass the next time we train.” Keith, sweaty and grinning, says to her. He nuzzles into her neck. “Totally worth it.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Oh shit, she could be pregnant.

Lance makes it through the recruiting display without throwing up in her Lion, otherwise that would be a hassle to clean. To do so, her flying is much more restrained, even delicate, missing most of the usual showy flips and rolls she loves doing so much. Lance has always loved rollercoaster rides, and aerial tricks are no different.

Thankfully, there’s no need to form Voltron that day. The aliens on the current planet are dazzled by the rainbow of lions, and quickly join the Coalition. If she’d had to be in the mindscape with the other four, they’d have immediately latched onto her thoughts and found out the truth.

She fights of the approaching nausea as she flies, taking in deep, long breaths. Relief rolls through her when the entire routine is over and she’s back on sweet, solid ground.

Her entire world is still swaying when Lance stands still, though.

“You good? Still feeling sick?” Hunk asks in concern as she makes her way out of her Lion.

“A bit dizzy, but I’m good.” She reassures him with two thumbs up.

In the infirmary, Lance stops short. Allura or Coran are usually the ones manning the pods and equipment, the Altean letters unreadable to the human Paladins - Pidge probably can read them, but that’s no help to her. The pods might be able to identify pregnancies but Lance wouldn’t be able to read it. Scratching her head, Lance has no idea what any of the sleek white equipment does either.

Rifling through the drawers, she comes across something familiar. It’s a small oval scanner, one that Coran frequently waves over the less-seriously-injured Paladins after they need some post-fight patching up. He’s able to tell vital stats quickly from it, and Lance has seen it serve as a mini heartrate monitor with the skipping ECG line appearing on it.

If she’s pregnant, and already throwing up, then the fetus should already have formed a heart, right?

Man, Lance misses Google.

There’s nothing to lose, really. She picks up the scanner and starts pressing all the buttons, flicking through figures and unreadable letters and waving it around her chest during each new screen until finally the telltale jagged line appears in a steady rhythm.

Bingo.

Gulping, Lance presses her fingers to the side of neck with her free hand to feel her own pulse, and holds the scanner over her abdomen.

Another line appears, the rhythm distinct from her own, steady and rapid.

Well.

“Oh, fuck.” Lance whispers into the empty room.

 

* * *

 

 

She has to tell Keith. She - can’t tell the team. They kept their relationship secret for a reason. But what is she going to do now? How is she going to raise a kid in the middle of space? Are there space abortion clinics? Maybe she could slip out, but where even are they? It isn’t like she can just pop on Space Google and look them up.

Lance paces around her room, where she’s guaranteed privacy. Pacing in the infirmary would have been far too suspicious.

It’s such a weird feeling, knowing that she’s pregnant. She rests a hand on her flat belly, knowing that it will swell in a few months if she does nothing.

Pregnancy itself isn’t the weird thing, how could it be? She’s been surrounded by pregnant bellies and babies and children throughout her life, her huge, tight knit family made sure of that. There were always ladies getting pregnant, relatives having more kids, aunts who had a surprise baby at the age of forty. One of her cousins was a teenage mom. Her favourite aunt, who was only five years older than her, had married early and produced a kid, and Lance was there for all of it.

Estella’s weird cravings, her irritability and shortened temper, feeling the baby kick, hearing talk about gynaecological appointments and maternity supplements, her aunt’s fatigue as she neared her due date, her belly absolutely huge at that point, and a few weeks later, when they visited her and the tiny, fragile baby swaddled in her arms -

Lance’s blood ran cold.

She couldn’t have a baby here.

How would she keep it safe? As her pregnancy grew, she couldn’t pilot a Lion, and going on missions would be too dangerous. She would be the team’s weak spot, pregnant and vulnerable, easily captured and derailing their efforts as they focused on rescuing her - and with a fetal mind developing inside her, how would they form Voltron? Maybe they could call Keith back to take her place, but it would leave her useless on the Castleship, dead weight, a burden.

The war needed each soldier to contribute.

Lance lingered around the Castle, acting as if she was casually just chilling, y’know, hanging out and unwinding after a day of being a Paladin - until she was certain Allura and Shiro were discussing plans outside, and Coran was doing maintenance checks in the bowels of the ship, before slipping into the main control room and calling Keith’s emergency contact.

Keith’s worried face came into view against the cool blue walls of the Blade HQ. Thank god she wasn’t interrupting any stealth missions. His face was sharp with fear and anger (stemming from the fear, she knew) - “What’s going on? What’s the emergency?” He immediately demanded, eyes widening when he saw Lance. “Lance, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Where is everyone?”

“Cool down, hotshot.” Lance answered. “Everyone’s fine, we’re not in any danger. It’s, uh.” She looked away. “A personal emergency.”

“What kind of emergency?” Keith asked, immediately the caring boyfriend.

Lance rubbed her thumbs against her fingers, dithering. “I’m. Well. Um.” She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to speak. Just spit it out! Rip the bandaid off - “I’m - pregnant?” She forced out, the word breaking as she said it.

Keith froze. His face became a blank, porcelain visage, completely expressionless, and Lance watched him cautiously. He’d never made this face before. Never. It would have been more comforting if he’d exploded in anger, because that was familiar. That was fine.

“Um, Keith?”

And then he started moving again. “Oh. Shit. Um. I mean -” He stuttered, the camera shaking - he was definitely speaking to the comm on his wrist, as he ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “Fuck. Er -That’s - I was not expecting you to say that.” He finished simply. “Are - Are you sure??”

“I’m pretty sure, it’s not like I could get a pregnancy test out in space, but I’ve been having morning sickness - like.” Lance babbled. “I’ve been throwing up a lot, and food goo is absolutely disgusting now, I can’t even look at it. And there’s a second heartbeat in my womb.”

Her womb. Where there was a fetus. Which could grow into a baby. A whole new person.

Pregnancy was so surreal, sometimes.

“So uh...what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know!” Lance said desperately. “That’s what I called you for!”

“I don’t know either!” Keith protested back. “Isn’t it up to you? You’re the one carrying the baby!”

Lance paused, her eyes darting back and forth. Standing there, the knowledge of her pregnancy settled inside her like a weight she imagined the fetus to be, even though she knew it hardly weighed anything.

“There’s … really only two choices here.” She murmured, Keith listening intently to her. She knew, but was still hesitant to wrap her head around it. “It’s either I have the baby-”

“Or you don’t.” He concluded.

She bit her lip. Lance wanted - wanted someone to tell her what to do, but she didn’t know if she could handle it.

“That means I get an abortion.”

The statement hung in the air. Keith’s face was one of concern, eyebrows slightly furrowed, not in anger, but worry, and the sight both consoled her and made her anxious.

“Yeah.” He said carefully. “Are you going to-?”

“I...I don’t know.” Lance mumbled. “I don’t know if there are any space abortion clinics, if there are, or else I’ll have to ask Coran and they’ll find out….”

She meets his gaze through the screen, at the deep violet she was so fond of. “If - If I get an abortion, how would you feel? How would - would you be okay with it?”

Keith blinks, as if Lance just acknowledged the obvious fact that space was big. “Definitely, I’d be okay if that’s what you want.”

“And what if I have the baby?”

He tensed, and his face was guarded. “I’d....I’d help you as much as I could, but - having a baby now would be so dangerous, Lance! We’re in the middle of a war!”

She looked away guiltily. It would. It would be such a bad idea, to have a baby while fighting an intergalactic space war.

“Do you want to keep the baby, Lance?”

No. Yes. “I…”

“ _What_ baby?!” Allura’s incredulous voice booms as she strides through the door, and Lance whips around in shock, Keith’s jaw simultaneously going slack.

Well, shit.

“Uh, nothing, Allura, nothing’s happening!” Lance blurts out, even as she immediately mentally screams _stupid, stupid, she’s going to be suspicious!_ Allura comes closer, leveling narrowed eyes at her.

“I know what I heard, Lance.” She says sharply, folding her arms. “Why are you talking to Keith, and why is he asking you if you want to keep a baby?”

“It’s, um, we uh-” Lance stammers, shooting panicked glances at her lover. Keith opens his mouth.

“Lance is pregnant.”

“KEITH!” Lance screeches.

“I can’t help you make this decision, Lance. And I don’t know how to help you, but Allura can. The team would know eventually.” He points out to his raging girlfriend in a surprisingly calm voice.

“Yes, but- Aargh!” So much for keeping their secret.

Lance covers her face with her hands, muffling her scream in them. “And - who is the father?” Allura asks slowly.

Keith colours slightly. “Me.”

The Altean’s expression contorts into something of sheepish disbelief, a slight pink colouring her cheeks as her eyes dart from Lance, to Keith, and back again. “You two were - ”

“Yes, we were - _ARE!_ in a relationship! That’s not important right now, Allura!” Lance flusters, flapping her hands in Allura’s direction. “I’m pregnant and we need to deal with it!”

“Well.” Allura says, taking a deep breath. “What do you intend to do, Lance?”

“Why does everyone ask me that question?” Lance groaned mournfully.

“It is your body carrying a child, and you are ultimately making the decision, are you not?” Allura says, her tone calm. “Personally, I believe that now is not the time to be carrying a child. We are at war, and arrangements would have to be made if you decided to keep it. You would be out of commission. Keith would have to pilot the Red Lion in your stead, and this ship is intended for battle, not to carry a pregnant female.”

“It is not to say that you could not safely carry the child to term and deliver them on this ship, but future battles would certainly pose a high risk.” She continues, gaze fixed on Lance’s fearful blue ones. “However, if you decided to abort the child, matters would be a lot easier.”

There it was. The bridge Lance didn’t know how to cross. Guiltily, she folded into herself, wrapping her arms around her torso and looking away from Allura’s gaze. “Yeah, I know.” She mumbled.

“What is it, Lance?” Keith asked gently.

“I don’t - I still don’t know what to do.” Lance began slowly. “I know my choices, and I know I’ll have to make one eventually, but they’re both so - “ She swallowed. She wished Allura wasn’t here for the questions she wanted to ask Keith.

“Difficult?” Allura supplied, her tone sympathetic. “That’s understandable, Lance.”

Lance looked at her boyfriend, who was doing his best to smile and be encouraging. She appreciated that. “Would you really be okay if I got an abortion?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Keith answered, curious and confused, and so genuine it made her heart hurt. Lance turned to Allura.

“Allura?”

“Of course. I don’t see an issue here?”

“It’s just.” Lance let herself go, but her hands balled into fists. “Isn’t an abortion killing a baby? We were all a fetus once, if our mothers hadn’t given birth to us, then we wouldn’t be here.” Lance cast her eyes downward. “My mother always said it was wrong.”

“I - I know this is a terrible time to have a baby. I don’t want my baby to grow up like this.” She confessed. “In war. I want them to be safe. I know I can’t pilot or fight if I have the baby. Childbirth - scares me. I’m not ready yet. Abortion is the best option. But - ”

Lance hunched over, and Allura stepped forward to place a consoling hand on her shoulder. “You said it yourself, Lance. You know why you shouldn’t have a child right now. The healing pods are able to induce a miscarriage, they are well equipped to handle almost any eventuality.”

“But abortion is killing a baby-”

“It is not.” Allura retorted firmly. “A fetus is not a baby. I do not wish to be rude, but your mother is not correct. What you’re carrying now, in your reproductive organ, is not and will never a fully formed baby, before birth. What’s more important is you, Lance.” She emphasized, placing her hands on Lance’s shoulders. “Don’t think of the fetus. What do you want?”

Lance paused, eyes wide at Allura’s intense gaze. “I don’t want to give birth.” She blurted out. “I don’t want to be pregnant. Not now.”

“Do you want an abortion?”

Apart from the faint hum of the Castle’s systems, nothing else could be heard in the Control room. Lance’s heartbeat filled her ears. She pushed aside all the nagging thoughts, the ingrained ideas, and concentrated on the truth.

“Yes.”

Allura smiled, and her entire face relaxed. “Then that’s settled.”

“But, but - ” Lance quickly said. “You won’t be mad? Or angry? That I want this?” She hurriedly looked from Allura to Keith, and saw only concerned looks. “You won’t think that I’ve done something wrong?”

“Absolutely not.” Keith stated in determination.

“There’s nothing wrong with getting an abortion, Lance.” Allura said.

Lance exhaled deeply, and felt lighter, better, at the affirmation. “Okay. Okay, I can do this.” She cast a shy look at Keith again. “Could you be here? When it happens?”

“Definitely. Keith smiled, and Lance couldn’t help but go all gooey. “Kolivan can’t stop me.”

“What a good boyfriend.” Lance simpered, half-jokingly, and Allura rolled her eyes fondly at them. “If this is what you two are like, I’m glad Keith is away.”

“I love you.” Keith immediately said, smirking, and Lance loudly cooed “Awww! Love you too Keithy!”

Allura shot them an unimpressed look.

 

* * *

 

 

“The pod takes about a varga to complete the process, then it will drain away the blood.” Allura said, slender fingers adjusting the settings of the pod on the screen.

Keith, in his usual Blade attire, squeezed Lance’s hand as she, clad in the skintight medical suit, stepped into the open pod. In the infirmary, it was only the three of them, because Lance didn’t want anyone else to intrude. They didn’t need to know, and she preferred it that way.

It would be just like any other stint in the pod, for their routine physical checkups and after-mission healing, painless and instant.

It certainly felt like that, because after the glass had come down and frosted over, and Lance blinked her eyes into unconscious blackness, it seemed like only a couple of seconds had passed until it was over. The light came back on and the world swam back into view, Keith sitting on the floor with his arms crossed and Allura tapping away on a holo-screen, both waiting for her.

As the pod walls dematerialized, Keith perked up and jogged over to her, grasping her shoulders as Lance emerged, slightly groggy. “How’re you feeling?”

She smiled at him. “I’m fine.” Better than that. She was immensely relieved, like a heavy burden had been lifted off her shoulders, like she was free. Everything had gone back to normal, everything would be fine.

“That’s good.” Keith breathed, and Lance leaned in for a chaste peck against his lips, savouring his presence.

Allura cleared her throat in front of them, looking very much like Lance’s older sister Veronica when Lance brought a boy back home. “Now that that’s over, the Castle does have birth control, you know.” She picked up what looked like a slim white gun, most likely loaded with the contraceptive implants. It felt like getting a vaccine, as Allura literally shot it into both their arms, Lance rubbing the puncture site as it throbbed.

“That should be good for about three phoebs or so, and hopefully the war will be over by then.” Allura smirked.

“Oh my god, really? Thanks, Allura, this is gonna be so useful-”

“I don’t want to know about what you do with Keith.” She said wryly. “Now, Keith, the others have probably noticed you’re here already, so go greet them before they get suspicious.”

Reluctantly, Keith pulled himself away from Lance. “Alright then.” He curled his hand around Lance’s. “Let’s go. I missed all of you.”

“If you want to keep your relationship secret, don’t hold hands!” Allura called after them as they ran, chuckling.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im pro-choice and pro-abortion. if you have a problem with that, fight me.


	5. Beach Episode, Platonic Keith/Lance, Langst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just take this. it's been ages. emotional scenes are so hard to write

About a few minutes into traversing the galaxies with their Lions, the realization struck Lance. They were a bunch of friends with a few tagalongs (Keith’s mom and that Romelle girl) riding five multicoloured spaceships through the universe to get back home. With a gazillion miles between them and Earth they couldn’t skip over with a convenient wormhole.

 

“Guys! Guys!! Do you know what this means?!!” Lance said enthusiastically into her comms. “We’re on a SPACE ROAD TRIP!!”

 

Four screens with everyone’s faces wedged in pop up on her screen. Hunk cheered back a  “YEAH!”, and Pidge whooped, still riding on the high of having kicked Lotor’s ass and gotten Shiro back. Keith chuckles and Allura is wondering “What is this ‘road trip’ you speak of?”

 

“It’s kind of like, a fun trip you go on with your friends, and it’s like a vacation of sorts?” Hunk tried to explain. “You don’t really have a place in mind and you’re just wandering around but it’s fun because you’re with your friends!”

 

“Yeah!” Lance agrees, “Well, technically, road trips are usually saved for after you’re done with something, like school? And we just saved the universe from Lotor, so I say we deserve a break!”

 

“Space Mall!” Pidge calls out. “Let’s go to a Space Mall and get more games!”

 

“We can’t play them, the emulator got shrunk along with the castleship!”

 

“Hey, aren’t there any nice planets we could go to?” Lance asks amid Pidge’s defeated noises. “Anywhere nice, with a breathable atmosphere, great weather-” and, jabbing a finger before Coran can interject, “-WITHOUT lava rain or anything like that, okay! Maybe a space resort and spa next to a beach?” She fantasizes, a wide grin stretching her face.

 

“It doesn’t really have to be a beach, I’m fine with just a nice planet-” Keith, that mulleted half-galra traitor, says. Lance makes an offended noise. 

 

“Keith!! How could you! Beaches are essential!”

 

“I spent two years on a space whale hunting for survival with my mom, I’m not picky!”

 

“I’m sure that already counts as a vacation in  _ your  _ book.” Lance mutters under her breath.

 

“Paladins,” Allura begins before Keith can protest, amusement evident in her voice (“You’re a Paladin too, Allura-” Lance points out) “I think I have the perfect place for us to visit.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

Said planet happens to be Lunarium, a blueish-lavender planet in the Myrissius system, (“One of the most beautiful star systems in the universe! They were always in the top ten of the Galactic polls.” Coran chimes.) 

 

It took then several vargas to get there while travelling past the swirling galaxies of space. Lance was feeling great after several off-key yelling renditions of group singing, two rounds of ‘never have I ever’, and a truth or dare in which they took turns. There was nothing coming to fight them, no possible incoming enemies, they were headed for rest and relaxation. 

 

“Are we there yet?”

 

“Lance I swear I will turn this ship around!” Hunk shouted back in mock anger, and they burst into laughter.

 

“I’m going to plug in my playlist.” Keith said, eliciting questions like “with what? I didn’t think the lions support USB cables” and Shiro going “Keith, no one wants to hear MCR right now.”  

 

The closest neighbouring planets to Lunarium were an ice planet that looked like a glittering, spherical diamond, and a gas planet the colour of raspberry swirl. Man, Lance could really go for some flavoured ice right now.

 

“Hold on guys, I’ll get the invisibility shield up.” Pidge piped up, no doubt rapidly typing right now. She’d managed to functionally extend cloaking to the other lions, but they only worked if they weren’t currently being barraged by enemy fire which kind of made it useless in a combat situation. Here it was perfect. Despite how amazing it would have been to be adored and fawned over by a planetary audience as the Defenders of the Universe, it was likely to draw unwanted attention. Without the Castleship’s backup, the last thing they wanted to do was to cause a huge fight in a civilian area. 

 

They touched down in a remote area not too far from the beach, and Lance couldn’t change out of her Paladin armour fast enough. 

 

“C’mon girl! The beach is waiting for us!” She patted Kalternecker’s snout, who lowed calmly as Lance raced down the Red Lion’s ramp with jacket flapping behind her. 

 

First stop was, naturally, the swimwear shop. (“They do have swimwear, right?” “Of course!” Coran replied, stroking his mustache. “Lunarium is one of the biggest holiday destinations in the universe. They even stock swimwear for all 10 genders of the Rhydhax!” “Damn.”)      

 

The boys soon found their swim shorts and sat down at the waiting area like boring dads. Romelle, tragically, wasn’t a fan of the beach and had politely declined to join them.  Hunk had found a bright yellow pair with a repeating pattern of purple alien birds, insisting on it even after Lance told him that purple and yellow were a colour scheme from the depths of ugly hell. Shiro wore black and white shorts and a solid grey shirt with the right sleeve tied, and Keith had found a red one with black lines down the sides, his torso bare to show off his muscled arms and chest.

 

Lance swore that his chest and abs had gotten more pronounced since the last time she saw him. Shit. They might even be able to compete with Shiro’s, She thought idly, nervously biting her lip. Two years of space being a ninja had treated him well.  _ Unfairly _ well. What it would feel like to touch those round, firm pecs - wait a minute, what the fuck was she thinking about?!

 

Face flushed, Lance ducked back behind the shelves and turned her attention back to the swimsuits. No, no, nonono.  _ Focus.  _ She slapped her hands onto her burning red face, the technicolour array of suits blending together. She was here to get something to wear to the beach, she could ogle Keith on the beach later - nowaitSTOP.

 

“This section is boring, girls! Let’s uh - let’s go find nicer ones!” Lance called out a little too loudly, eyes flicking wildly back and forth as she slungs her arms around Allura and Pidge’s shoulders and herded them away. 

 

“Hey, wait, I wanna see more purple ones!” Pidge protested, dropping a piece as Lance dragged her off.

 

Sufficiently far away from the boys, Lance heaved a sigh of relief and turned her eye to the aisle. Most of the ones here are relatively normal looking - well, normal for human-ish people. There was stuff she’d glimpsed like a bottom half with three...four(?) leg holes and what looking like a clump of tangled string. Her eye fell on a red bikini set and Lance smiled at the memory of her older sister Veronica. For three summers Ronnie had entered her ‘sexy’ phase, insisting on revealing bikinis and thongs in provocative crimson and black to show off her slender body and blossoming breasts, and each summer Mami had chastised her and attempted to force Veronica into more modest swimsuits, to no avail. 

 

“Try this. And this! Oooh, this one’s perfect.” Lance piled several different suits into Pidge’s unwilling hands, a striped bikini, a green onepiece suit, a lime tankini with ruffles... Pidge made a face.

 

“God, you’re just like my mom. All I need is one swimsuit!” She complained.

 

“You don’t understand, Pidge.” Lance said, shaking her head solemnly while waggling a finger as Allura poked around the various suits on display. “Swimsuit shopping is an indispensable part of the beach-going experience. Back at home, we went shopping every summer. You need to try all these on to find the perfect suit to wear to the beach!” She gestured grandly around her. With four siblings, trips to the shop were frequent, to replace too small, worn out ones her siblings and her had outgrown in a single year, or because going to a friend’s pool party with last year’s bikini was just tacky. 

 

“I can’t decide.” Allura says, turning around to show Lance two suits, a simple white bikini and a shimmery swimsuit that mixed pink and lilac together in a messy ombre. “Which one do you think looks better?” 

 

“Classy. I’d expect no less from you, Allura.” Lance rubbed her chin in thought. “We should try them both at the changing rooms!” She gushed. “I picked out a few for Pidge, I’ll get some I like, and we can have a fashion show!”

 

“That sounds exciting!” Allura replied with a smile. “And is that what you call this?” She holds up the bikini. 

 

“Yep! I think it’s called the bikini because, well, English, bi is for two things, like bisexual and all that, and we have two boobs, you know? And I love fashion shows, my siblings used to do that all the time. It was so fun with my older sister Veronica! Like, of course, my brothers were bored, but we made them do it anyway, and they’re boys, so-”

 

Out of the peripheral of Lance’s eye, Pidge snatched up a pair and runs. 

 

“I GOT MY SWIMSUIT!”

 

“PIDGE! GET BACK HERE!” Lance whipped around and yelled, betrayed, “WE WERE GOING TO HAVE A SWIMSUIT FASHION SHOW! IT’S TRADITION!” 

 

“Can’t catch me!” Pidge cackles, which is a lie, because Lance was a great runner.

 

Allura, peering out of the aisle and watching Pidge disappear, wondered “Where is everyone else? I do hope we’re not the last ones.” 

 

“Eh, we probably are.” Lance shrugged. “The guys got their shorts ages ago.”

 

“Oh dear. Then we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

 

“Wait - Allura, not you too!”

 

Shocked and heartbroken, Lance watched Allura put the white bikini back, her dreams of a swimsuit parade at the changing rooms dashed. She wanted to see Pidge in that cute suit she gave her! It would have been such great blackmail material. “We do want to spend most of our time at the beach. We could have a fashion show some other time!” Allura chirped, sounding more and more like a prim and proper British grandma as she spoke. “Just with clothes that are a lot more….substantial.” She grinned sheepishly, then left.

 

Alone, the gleaming swimwear store is suddenly too bright, too big, too foreign, and Lance remembered what was missing.

 

She isn’t in the beach shack at the Varadero shore with the whitewashed walls and tacky, ragged posters. The counter selling popsicles and syrup-covered ices, cheap plastic floaties and toys strung up on the right. Everything here is bright white like the old Castleship, the walls clean and curved ever so slightly. She’s in a space supermart - the aisles extending far into the horizon if she peeks over the shelves. 

 

Lance sighed and picked up a blue bikini spotted with white polkadots, which should suffice. She was holding everyone back from going to the beach, after all.

 

To absolutely no one’s surprise, they all ended up in swimsuits colour-coded to their Paladin uniforms. Allura went with the swimsuit in pink and lilac while Pidge was in green tank top with boyshorts, going “You guys finally done?” when Lance approached, and yes, she was the last. 

 

The seas and skies of Lunarium, like the planet, are a dazzling lavender, with a slightly darker colour to the sea. Pure white sand completed the landscape to create the ultimate pastel Instagram dream. Hunk and Pidge, dragging Keith along, ran to the shore while cheering and whooping, Allura had somehow managed to get an inflatable which looked like a blobby alien space urchin. Shiro, and Krolia, clad in a baggy red tank, soon found a shaded area with a blanket over the warm sand.  

 

It was so strange. They were fighting for their lives just yesterday, and now they were at the beach, lavender notwithstanding, on vacation. 

 

As the others plunged straight into the waters, Pidge immediately splashed Allura and started a splash fight. Lance padded over the gleaming sand and dipped her toes into the shallow waters crashing into the shore.

The waves stroked over her feet like the calm, insistent hands of her mother patting her back during a hug, and tears welled up in Lance's eyes. 

 

They're at the beach. She should be happy they're all alive and well, that Keith found his mother, that Shiro’s truly back, that they defeated Lotor, but all she feels is her heart being strangled in a tight grip. 

 

She wonders what it’s like on Varadero now. What time of the year is it, back home? Is it chilly and rainy on the year-end, or bright and summery? Is Luis still in highschool? How’s Veronica doing in college? Are they doing okay without her?

 

How is Mami coping with her disappearance?

 

Slowly, she lowers herself onto the sand, pulling her shoulders to her knees, and curls up into a ball. The waves tug her forward gently, lapping at her arms. She looks up, scrunching her eyes shut to hold the tears back - she doesn’t want to cry on vacation, but saltwater falls from her lids nonetheless, trickling off her chin and dropping into the ocean. They probably think she’s dead. Her grandma thinks she’s dead. 

 

Grandma might be dead. 

 

_ No _ . Lance shoved that idea away. It’s going to be alright. They’re headed back to Earth, they’re going home. Everyone will know that she isn’t dead, Hunk and Pidge and everyone - their families will know they’re alive and well. Everything is going to be fine. 

 

Coran calculated that, based off the speed of their lions, it would take about a year to travel to Olkari and then a significant amount of time to get a teludav built. Another year before she gets to go home.

 

Lance sniffed and stopped a sob rising up her throat. They’re going back! She’ll see her family again! Everything is. Going. To be. 

 

Fine.

 

So why is she crying?

 

It’s hard to breathe with her nose clogged up, it’s hard to see with her eyes full of tears. The tears kept coming. She faintly heard the shouts and splashing from her teammates inbetween her sobs, and her heart ached. They’re tossing Allura’s alien urchin around as an improvised beach ball. It’s good that they’re having fun. 

 

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Lance slowly got up, not wanting to draw attention to herself. They should be enjoying themselves after that last stressful battle. She shouldn’t want them to notice her. They didn’t need to bother with an irrational, idiotic crybaby who cried for no good reason. 

 

She cried when her grades dipped in highschool. She cried during her first week in the Garrison. She cried when the Kerberos mission was announced a failure. She cried, curled up in a ball on the Castleship, when Blue was still her lion. She cried that time she slipped on nothing during a mission and accidentally smashed her jaw onto the floor. It didn't even hurt that much.

 

Her tears mean nothing. 

 

The shore stretched out unceasingly in front of her, disappearing to the left as the lavender ocean met the sky at the horizon. She could wander forever and not have the team notice her. 

 

“Lance! Get over here and play!” 

 

“L-Later!” Lance choked out in a gasp, hoping no one heard her voice break.

 

Fine grains of sand coated the soles of her feet white as she trudged away, walking and sobbing, tears rolling down her face. She can cry until she’s wrung utterly dry, until this  _ stupid, useless crying spell _ is over and she won’t bother anyone.

 

* * *

 

 

Shiro is asleep on the mat beneath the alien beach umbrella, and Hunk and Pidge want to have wrestling matches in the water but in pairs and one half carrying the other or something.

 

Pidge is actually putting up quite a good fight considering she's against Allura and Keith's impressed. He’d  assumed that Pidge, being their technical genius, wouldn't have that much arm strength, but she could always hold her own pretty well in battle. The girl's biceps are flexed and straining against Allura with their hands locked together palm-to-palm, the Altean grinning fiercely with all her teeth. A low drone of effort is coming from Pidge’s extended grunt, her brows furrowed as she fights to keep upright.

 

“Push her off, Pidge!” Hunk cheered.

 

“Allura, this should be easy for you!”

 

Allura tsked at his lack of encouragement, but she  _ is _ strong, and with another push - yep, there she goes, Pidge has fallen off Hunk’s shoulders with a yelp and splashed into the ocean. She surfaced to push wet hair out of her face and groaned while Allura whooped, arms thrown into the air. Keith quickly gripped onto her legs.

 

“I want a rematch!” Pidge demanded.

 

“That  _ was _ the rematch, Pidge. Be a graceful loser.” Allura stated smugly, still sitting on Keith's shoulders.

 

Staring into the distance, Hunk wondered “Hey, do they have any surfboards around here? This place has some really good waves.”

 

“I wanna try surfing.” Pidge said, and Allura, climbing down Keith’s shoulders, asked, “What's surfing?”

 

“I'll show you.” Hunk grinned, slow and excited. “But first we gotta get some boards. Where's Coran?”

 

They head back to shore, and Keith realized what was lacking - Lance is nowhere to be found. It was too quiet without her voice. 

 

“I'll catch up with you later.” He told them, and scanned the beach for the mysteriously disappeared Lance. Romelle in her usual clothes is building sand sculptures with Mom, but he can't see Lance anywhere, and she - tall, tan, lanky -  _ would _ be distinct among the alien beachgoers. What was she wearing again? Blue? They were all wearing their (original) Paladin colours, right?

 

“Lance? Laaaaaance?”

 

If she's flirting with some alien dudes, Keith would be disappointed but not surprised in the slightest. 

 

Among the mass of technicolour aliens dotting the white beach, he finally noticed a brown shape, chocolate hair cascading down her back. She sat on the sand, so small in the distance he almost missed her until catching the telltale blue bottom of her swimsuit. There she is. Keith jogged toward her, calling her name. 

 

What was she doing there?

 

Lance was curled up into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest. He noticed a large white patch of a scar on her bare back, which looked vaguely familiar - a burn, maybe, but he can't quite place where it’s from. Upon approach, he heard sniffling and sobbing, and his pace slowed.

 

Is she... crying?

 

He gingerly stepped closer. “Lance?”

 

She startled, frantically wiping her face and eyes. “K-Keith!” She choked out in a forcefully cheerful tone, standing up unsteadily and facing him with red-rimmed eyes.  “What's - what’s up, man?”

 

“Are you okay?” Keith asked. 

 

“Yeah - yeah, I'm good.” Lance lied, voice a little clearer this time. “I just - got sand in my eyes. And my face.” She mumbled, as more tears gathered in her rapidly blinking eyes and escaped down her cheeks.

 

She clearly is not.

 

“You’re crying.” Keith pointed out.

 

“N-No I'm not!” Lance insisted, turning away from him. Her tears dropped off her chin and left dark spots below Powdery white sand coated the bottom of her legs, and she began to walk away from him. She's noticeably shorter than him now. “W-What do you want, mullet?” 

 

He frowned.

 

She's avoiding his statement and trying to divert him. Lots of Lance’s battle plans involved distraction, but he only recently noticed how she always did that. “You weren't there with us, I was wondering where you were. Did something happen?” He prompted again, following her. He quickly scanned her entire form, glancing over her slender body. Her bronzed skin is perfectly smooth all over her long arms and legs, unmarred by any injuries. She isn’t externally hurt. 

 

Lance stopped, sniffling. “I'm- just - don't worry about me.” She murmured, her throat still choked up. “This'll be over soon.” Her shoulders are hunched over and facing away from him.

 

It's just them on this part of the beach, away from their friends. To the masses of aliens and the rest of the universe, in their beachwear, they are two invisible strangers. “What do you mean?” Keith crossed his arms in frustration, “What do you mean it’ll be over soon?”

 

“It’s because I’m a crybaby, alright?!” Lance snaps. “I cry all the time. Blue Paladin of Water and all that shit. I know you don’t cry, you just brood like the emo loner you are.” Her face crumbles into a sob, wrapping her arms around herself. “Just leave me alone.”

 

“People never cry for no reason. There’s something wrong.” He steps closer. “I just want to help you.”

 

He’s woefully unprepared for this kind of situation. Hunk would be so much better as Lance’s best friend, and Keith surreptitiously glances back to see if he’s somehow close by. 

 

Where are they? It’s been about ten doboshes -  _ minutes  _ \- since they left the main group. Surely they’ve noticed both of them are gone and have started searching?

 

“Do you want me to find Hunk?” 

 

“No!” Lance yelled in a sudden outburst, turning toward him with years and snot on her face. “He - they - the others don't need to know. It’s o-okay. I don’t want to bother them.”

 

Keith backed away slightly at her reaction, and stared. “Why would you be bothering them?” They're best friends, they ‘always have each other’s backs’. This isn’t right. They’re practically joined at the hip, they were always hanging out together inbetween missions - “There’s something wrong. Don’t you tell Hunk everything? He always comforts you.”

 

Lance looked at him with wet eyes, and tried to smile - her mouth trembling as she curled her lips mockingly at him. “It’s been a while, Keith, you ha-haven’t been with us for so long. Things have changed.” She said bitterly. “Hunk and Pidge are always hanging out now and doing important tech stuff. Everyone needs to contribute to the war effort, don’t you know?”

 

His brows furrowed, because that sounds exactly like what he’s been hearing before meeting Krolia.  _ The mission is the most important. You cannot fail. Your mistakes will shape the fate of the universe. An individual Blade cannot come before the War.  _ And Lance hasn’t spoken to him like this since - since forever.

 

What happened to Lance?

 

“What are you talking about?” Keith snarled, fists curled. 

 

Lance sighed, as if she was dealing with an annoying child. “Just go away. Nothing’s wrong.” She wiped away her tears. “People need to cry, okay? Gotta flush out the toxins from bad feels in the body and stuff.”

 

“If you’re sad, then there’s definitely something wrong.” Keith urged, trying to keep anger from entering his voice. “Why are you hiding this? I - we could help you feel better.” He confronted her, facing her and advancing closer while she tried to avoid him, looking into her face directly just like Krolia would. He didn’t know yet if it was just her blunt personality, or the efficiency of being a member of the Blade. but Krolia didn’t let him hide from his feelings and neither was he going to let Lance.

 

Lance growled shakily, her throat still choked up. “Cut it out! Leave me alone!”

 

“You’re just going to make yourself feel worse! I know what that feels like!”

 

They’re like a bunch of kids playing tag, but in this case, Lance is being the immature kid. In a split-second decision, Keith reached out and grabbed Lance, pulling her into a hug.

 

_ “I miss my Mami’s hugs.” Lance once said, uncharacteristically down as blue Altean light reflected off her face. _

 

“What are you d-!” Lance protested as his arms wrap around her. She struggles, her chin jabbing onto his shoulder, and he held on. 

 

“You like hugs, right?” Keith offered, teeth gritted as he tightened his embrace. “Krolia wasn’t very good at hugs, but she still tried. And I wanted them no matter what I said to her.”

 

Staring at the lavender horizon, more tears escaped down her eyes. Lance couldn’t remember the last time she was hugged - by Hunk, yes, on the Castleship, but that felt like a century ago. 

 

The dam broke, and the well of water surged through. She sagged into Keith’s arms and just let everything go. 

 

“They were always busy.” Lance sobbed, “I-I know it was all really important stuff, and I couldn’t contribute anything. I can’t do anything, I - I - I can’t fix things or make cool gizmos or cook… I don’t want to be a burden...”

 

“You’re not.” Keith murmured.   

 

“I miss my family.” Lance cried. “I - I know it’s dumb! We’re going to see them anyway, we’re going back home - but it’s been so long… “

 

Keith closed his eyes. He didn’t remember Krolia in his childhood, he had managed to live almost his entire life without her there. But he wouldn’t know what to do if she had to leave again. He didn’t think he could take it.

 

He had completely lost it when Shiro was taken away.

 

“It’s okay.” He said, patting her back as much as he could. “It’s okay to miss them.” 

 

Lance shook and cried loud, wailing tears, her tears pooling on Keith’s shoulder. A couple of aliens looked at them warily, and Keith quickly broke any accidental eye contact, still stroking her back.

 

“I’m not gonna tell you to stop crying.” He mumbled. “And you’re not a burden, Lance. You’re a part of the team. The team is only complete with all of us.”

 

“S-So you f-finally get it.” Lance said shakily, trying to chastise him once she’d quietened down. “You’d better not leave again. I missed you.” 

 

Keith smiled, and Lance moved back, looking away bashfully as she wiped her tears. “I missed you too. And I don’t know what happened with the team, but I’ll talk to them. They can’t isolate you like that.”

 

“They - They aren’t isolating me.” Lance said guiltily. “I was.”

 

“Who’s the emo loner now?” He teased.

 

Lance swatted him weakly, and joined in Keith’s laughter with a watery, bubbly giggle. “Seriously, don’t be an emo loner.” Keith continued. “You...you’re best with other people. You make them laugh and feel better.”

 

“More like irritate them.” Lance said self-depreciatingly. 

 

“Who are you and what did you do to Lance?” Keith tried to joke. “The Lance I know would always be talking about how great she is.”

 

“It’s really just a joke. When people are annoyed they’re less tense.” Lance muttered. “And I never really mean any of those things I say.”

 

Keith stared. Lance’s gaze drifted down to her feet. “I mean, you were there. You got annoyed at me too, like everyone else. And - I get it. I’m the one making these dumb comments in the first place. But it’s too late.” Her blue eyes filled with angry tears as she curled her fingers into fists. “I’m just the annoying goofball who always says the stupidest shit.”

 

The combination of her falling tears and a forced smile on Lance’s face - was just wrong. “After you left, I didn’t have anyone to talk to. They all had so much more important things to do.” Lance wiped her eyes, wincing a little at the sting. She’d cried her eyes raw.  

 

“I want to go home. I want to be myself again.” 

 

Was this how she had always felt? How she always was?

 

“We will.” Keith insisted, grabbing her shoulders. His eyes met her wide ones. “We’re going back to Earth, and I want you to be yourself. It’s too quiet without you.”

 

She looked at him and grinned. It didn’t reach her downcast eyes, which hadn’t changed a bit. “Didn’t think you would ever say that.” Lance joked.

Keith’s expression remained resolute. “And you’re more than a goofball. Everyone is important in Voltron - we can’t form otherwise. You’re a Paladin and an important member of the team.”

 

Lance’s face twisted into a scowl, rolling her eyes before shrugging his arms off her shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Heard all of this before. Someone’s gotta pilot the lion. Everyone has to do their part for the war.” She looked out at the crashing waves with a frown.

 

He blinked rapidly. “What - no, that wasn’t what I was trying to say! That was - that was number one on the list!” He blurted out.

 

“Number...one?”

 

Keith huffed. “You’re gonna brag about these for the rest of our lives, but they’re true. You’re our best shot, Lance. You almost never miss, and your cover is why we haven’t been shot to pieces yet. That’s absolutely vital to our mission success.” God knows he wished Lance had been around to take out Galra sentries on alert during his Blade of Marmorra missions. Stealth missions were utterly unforgiving and honestly, he  _ sucked  _ at stealth.

 

“Plus, you’re always great at improvising and making up plans as we go along. You adapt so well to volatile missions. Before - before I left, I was kinda relying on you to speak up on briefings, y’know? It helps me give a clearer picture on the mission because I’m always just-” He gestured a cutting motion with his fist, “-get in and stab.” Lance chuckled, and a dopey grin appeared on Keith’s face. “I wouldn’t have thought of all those things beforehand.” 

 

“You talk all the time, but - you’re pretty good at talking.” Keith admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t you remember our first mission with me as Black Paladin, chasing after Lotor, where we totally messed up? I felt like shit, but you made me feel better. If you weren’t there, I don’t think - I don’t know how I would have been able to lead Voltron. You helped hold the team together.”

 

“Some of your jokes are actually funny, and - you’re part of my family.” 

 

Keith sucked in a breath, not realizing that he’d just said all of that in a big rush. Lance was staring at him now, enraptured, her eyebrows raised and eyes wide. Every muscle on her face had relaxed into a soft expression, while a light pink dusted her cheeks. “You’re all my family and I don’t want - it would suck if you were sad.” He declared. 

 

Her eyes filled with tears, lips trembling, and Keith flailed. “Erm, I mean - ! I didn’t mean that you-” 

 

She cut him off with a bubbly, genuine laugh, and a bright beam splitting her lips. “Compared to how my siblings have tried to comfort me, I’d give that a seven out of ten.”

 

Keith grinned, a wave of relief washing upon him. “I’ll take that if it means you feel better.” 

 

“It did.” Lance sniffled. “These are just tears of happiness.” She stepped forward and hugged him. “Thank you, Keith.”

 

“Anytime.” 

 

She wiped her tears when they broke apart, both looking at the stretch of the beach between them and rest of the team. “Hunk said he wanted to go surfing. It sounds like something you’d do.” Keith pointed out, and Lance cheered up almost immediately. 

 

“Hell yeah it is. We used to surf at my place during summer breaks.” The grin she shot him had her usual confidence and bravado back. “What’s a beach vacation without catching some waves?”

 

“Bet you can’t surf as much as I can.” Keith immediately challenged, and Lance just broke into peals of laughter. “Surf as  _ much _ ? What are you talking about, Mullet? Have you never been to the beach before?!”

 

“Nah. Grew up in the desert.” 

 

Lance looked stunned. “No way. You have been missing out on SO much.” 

 

The sand crumbled faintly under their feet as they made their way back, their bodies tinged with a light lavender from the purple sky. 

 

“Eh, the beach is alright.”

 

“How dare you!” Lance indignantly squawked at Keith’s snicker. “The beach is amazing! The Ocean Goddess is angered! May you always crash while surfing!”

 

“Wanna bet on that?” Keith smirked, and Lance narrowed her eyes. 

 

“You’re on.”

 

Keith knew this wasn’t the end of it. After coming back, he’d noticed that something was different. The team felt quieter, more distant, like several pieces instead of one whole, and Lance was commonly nowhere to be found. He was definitely going to bring this up to Hunk and Pidge and the others. 

 

They broke into a run, both smiling irresistibly, feeling like two children playing. The sun was alien but all that mattered was the warmth of the sunshine on their skin, the same as the beach and as in the desert. In that moment, everything felt perfect. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY. now i can go on vacation in peace.


	6. Serial Killer AU, Keith/Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Violence, Gore, Mentions of rape occurring to a minor female OC
> 
> This was really fun to write :D

The club was dim inside, bathed in a cool blue. Panels of neon yellow made up the dancefloor, and a mass of bodies writhed and gyrated to the heavy bass beats as streaks of red and green light flashed from overhead.

 

He entered with a casual swagger. This place was a distance away from college and not that known, so he was less likely to be recognized tonight. The lower the chance, the better, because he really needed to get his dick wet after all the bullshit he’d been through. 

 

About a month ago, he’d had some fun with a girl at a party. Alcohol quickly lubricated their interactions, made things smoother and easier, and after a few drinks she was ready and loose enough. It had just been a completely normal Friday night, then the next day the bitch had the gall to run off and start fake crying about how she’d been ‘raped’. 

 

Cue the PC libtards labelling him a rapist, harassing him, doxxing him online and calling for his expulsion. Fortunately the dean had prevailed to be a rational man, and his athletic scholarship was safe. Unfortunately, he was now a social pariah thanks to the malicious slander spread about him, and the majority of campus and nearly establishments now treated him like he was dog shit under their shoe.

 

He’d now learned the value of anonymity during one night stands, with a fake name and fake backstory ready to make sure it never happened again. You never knew what kind of opportunistic slut was out there, looking to destroy some innocent guy’s life. 

 

Several people were scattered outside the dancefloor, groups huddled around booths, but there are a few lone girls at the bar. He headed for the hottest girl there. Always leave insecure uglier girls for later, their low self-esteem meant they’d be happy to be noticed at all.

 

Her bare shoulders caught his eye immediately, broad and bronzed, and his gaze glided down the smooth skin of her bare back revealed by her top. No bra. Luscious, long brown hair was tucked to one side. Her pert ass bulged over the barstool in a glittery miniskirt that seemed to just cover her underwear, but not quite the top of a thong. She rested skyscraper heels on the ringed footrest, her long, toned legs in full view.

 

“Can I buy you a drink, beautiful?” He asked, easing next to her. 

 

She looked at him, eyes wide in surprise, but soon relaxed as she shot him a playful grin. Her half-lidded eyes sparkled with eyeshadow as she batted long lashes. 

 

“You wouldn't be able to afford what I want.” She boldly declared, twirling her hair around a finger coquettishly. 

 

“Oh, yeah? Try me.”

 

Turns out she wanted a girly, fruity cocktail, bubbling entirely blue with a little red umbrella in it, which certainly wasn't a cheap drink. He gave her a charming smile as the bartender slid it over to her. “Someone like you deserves it, princess.”

 

She beamed at him, leaning closer toward him as her pouty lips closed around the straw and she sucked the drink down. 

 

“I'm Sapphire.” She giggled.

 

“Hunter.”

 

Sapphire downed the entire cocktail and several more shots before she was putty in his hands. 

 

Soon enough, he had her exactly where he wanted, cornered at a remote area of the club, hidden in the shadows away from everyone. He pressed her against the wall, lips locked as he pushed his tongue into her mouth and had his ego stroked by the moan that slipped out of her. 

 

Sapphire was tall and slender, her waist fitting nicely into his hands. The black bustier she wore cupped her soft breasts enticingly and she squealed when he groped her behind, hand snaking up her skirt and into her panties.

 

“Mmm - Hunter -” she gasped, as his finger thrust into her pussy, her hips bucking at his ministrations. 

 

“You love it.”

 

“Fuck yes.” Sapphire purred, but soon pulled his hands out of her underwear with a saucy smile. “I've fucked in a club before, but not tonight, baby. My car's in the back.”

 

Her long, slim fingers wrapped around his wrist as she led him out of the stuffy, dark club and into the cool air of the night. “Backseat?” He pinched her butt, but Sapphire just smirked. “You'll like what I have at home.”

 

She spread her thighs invitingly as she drove, biting her lip and trying to stay focused as he fingered her cunt. 

 

Her house, or at least where she stayed, was situated near the woods, and strangely devoid of any paraphernalia from the college she said she was from. Biology major. If she was a good fuck, he made a mental note to ask her if they could meet up again later. 

They didn't bother turning on the lights once they got in. From the light of the nearby streetlamp, all he needed to see was a dimly lit couch in the living room to push her down on it, his hands fondling her breasts and pushing her clothes off aside as they made out.

 

He didn't see the knife before she lodged it under his ribcage. 

 

* * *

 

 

“ _ Fuck _ !” Douchebag yelled, eyes blown comically wide and mouth a perfect ‘o' when Lance stabbed him. She followed up with her fist colliding into his jaw while shoving him off the couch, and a kick in the nuts to bring him to his knees.

 

Hunter. A pathetic, piece of shit name. Of course the rapist would be proud of being a rapist. 

 

As he writhed in pain on the floor, Lance grabbed the handcuffs beneath the coffee table and quickly snapped them around his wrists, effectively immobilizing him. 

 

“You fucking bitch!” He screamed, spraying spit. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

 

She smiled a huge, fake smile at him. “Oh, I’m really into bondage,  _ baby _ .” She said cheerily, dodging his kick and giggling when he lost his footing and fell on his ass.

 

Keith’s footsteps growing louder behind her, Lance kicked Douche at the back of his knees, knocking him down while he struggled to get on his feet again. 

 

The smooth  _ zing _ of an unfolded knife sounded and Lance’s smile grew wider. “Never call him that again.” Keith grumbled, his switchblade catching the light from outside as he flipped it open and closed in his hands. Lance rested her fingers gingerly on his fidgeting, gloved fingers. “Are you honestly jealous of  _ him _ ?” Her nose wrinkled. “Don't worry, you're my only  _ babe _ .” She smirked. 

 

“Who the fuck are you?!” Douche yelled at them, the knife stuck in him heaving up and down with his chest. 

 

“Your worst nightmare.” Keith growled, dodging as Douche charged at him and crashed into a wall. Lance burst out laughing, her super-serious boyfriend and this flailing drunk idiot was just too much. 

 

“Alright, enough with the lame movie quotes.” She said. Douche tossed his fringe out of his eyes as he shot a murderous glare at them. “This one likes to run-!” Her words peaked in a crescendo as he lunged at her face-first. She simply stepped aside as he collapsed onto the floor on his side. “Tie him up!” She snapped, walking around the squirming body of Douche.

 

His foot connected with Lance’s calf as he tried to kick her- “Fuck you, you crazy psycho bitch-” but Lance just scowled and slammed her stiletto heel directly into his ankle, causing him to yowl in pain.

 

“I have a better idea.” Keith flashed her all his teeth, knife at the ready. 

 

“Later.” Lance rolled her eyes. “Where’s the zipties - Keith!” She squawked as he stabbed his switchblade into Douche’s abdomen, eliciting a choked gurgle of pain. Keith smiled as red began to gather at the puncture wound.

 

“What, you think he’s really gonna escape with two knives in him?” 

 

“I’m not gonna risk it just for your dick!” She huffed, snatching the zipties out of his hand with he fished them out of his pocket. Goddamn Keith and his blood kink.

 

Douche tried to kick her again when she knelt to grab his ankles, but she forced both legs down with her forearm and swiftly threaded the ziptie around, pulling it tight. 

 

“You won’t get away with this.” Douche tried to threaten, his breathing erratic as he attempted to kick with both legs. “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you both-”

 

“I’d like to see you try.” Lance grinned, bending over to look down at him.

 

Keith snarled and ripped off one of Douche’s dirty socks, stuffing it in his mouth. “Shut up.” Bound and gagged, he looked like a grotesquely oversized maggot squirming on the floor, cheek bruised, bottom of his shirt growing damper with blood and his fly still open. 

 

“Finally.” Lance sneered, getting on her hands and knees. She ripped out a blade from Douche’s body, causing him to writhe in pain as blood oozed from the wound. “How you do feel?” She simpered, her face hovering over his. “Hurt? Scared?  _ Petrified? _ I certainly hope so.”

 

“I’m sure she felt the same.” His eyes widened in terror as she traced the bloody knife over his crotch. “You don’t know who I am, but I know you.” Lance continued, her smile showing all her teeth.. “You thought no one would recognize who you were? That you could get away with it so easily with a stupid fake name?”

 

A soft hissing noise filled the room, and Lance stared, gaze flickering from his terrified face to his crotch. “Are you-” She jerked her hand back before a stream of piss could hit it, “oh my god-” and burst into laughter.

 

“You're kidding me.” Keith himself was starting to chuckle. “Big man on campus, aren't you?”

 

“But really,” Lance said amid snickers, “This doesn't change anything.”

 

She thrust the knife into his groin and he convulsed, a sure scream of agony muffled into a high-pitched keen. Blood sprayed onto her face as she dragged it through his flesh like peeling an orange, cutting through the cloth of his pants.

 

Once bared, Douche’s dick was a pitiful lump of bloody meat, bathed in red with a deep, skewed gash cutting through it. He was trembling as Lance reached for it, blade in hand, his muffled grunts begging for mercy. 

 

Her grin stretched wider across her face, basking in his fear. “This is nothing compared to the pain she'll have for the rest of her life.”

 

His penis severed with a single slice. His entire body, down to his fingers, stiffened and twitched,and blood began to gush from his mutilated crotch.

 

Lance picked up the limp cock and waved it before his tearstained face. “Eh, you never used it for much anyway.” She mocked, tossing the scrap of flesh aside. “You didn't even touch my clit one while you fingered me-”

 

“He did  _ what _ .” Keith's voice was guttural. 

 

“Oh yeah, forgot to tell you. I needed to lure him in.” Lance responded nonchalantly. Her boyfriend growled and pulled her to face him, arm around her waist tugging him forward. His bulge rubbed against her crotch.

 

“I can't wait any longer. Especially knowing you let him  _ touch you- _ ” 

 

Keith's teeth grazed her neck and Lance grinned at Douche as she spread her legs around Keith's middle. “This is how a  _ real _ man pleases a woman.” She proclaimed, as Keith worked to get her clothes off. 

 

Then he licked blood off her cheek. “Keith, you’re so gross.” She deadpanned. 

 

“You love me anyway.” He replied smugly, pupils blown wide with arousal. 

 

Blood was coming out of Douche's mouth. It was kind of impressive that he'd managed to bite through his dirty sock  _ and _ his tongue. 

 

Keith leaned closer to capture her lips, grinding against her clit, and she whined at the gross metallic taste of a rapist’s blood. 

 

Her glittery skirt and thong were soon scattered onto the floor as he pushed her into her back and rutted between her legs, her high heels draped over his shoulders. Lance looked Douche straight in the eyes and smirked, knowing all he could do was watch someone else get what he wanted.

 

He’d bled out by the time they were done. 

 

* * *

 

 

They set to work cutting the corpse up for easier transport. Lance got the butcher knife from the kitchen, and Keith had one of his own from his collection. Blood has seeped into the carpet and they'd have to rip it up and replace it, but that could come later. The pieces were stuffed into spare trash bags. 

 

Lance picked out her floral bath bomb for their bubble bath together, it, along with their soap, would get rid of the scent of blood. 

 

At the sight of Lance's pale blue crop top and fluffy shorts,  Keith quirked an eyebrow. “Are you really wearing  _ that _ to go bury a body?” He said dryly, drawing his cropped red jacket over his usual black shirt and pants.

 

“Not just this!” Lance protested. She reached for her worn denim jacket while stepping into thick boots to cover her delicate sandals. “I have to keep it clean, y’know.” 

 

It was still dark outside when they headed out, trash bags and shovels in hand. 

 

“Taking out the trash~” Lance sang as they walked to the woods. Her jacket caught any soil flicked on her as they dug, boots caked with mud, and they hid the evidence four feet underground before the sun rose. 

 

The sky was streaked a gentle pink and orange as they made their way back to the house, Lance successfully chastising Keith to change out of his dirty shoes before they went for breakfast. She laid her old jacket on the sofa. 

 

Jeweled sandals sparkling as she walked, Lance linked their hands together as they left the front porch. 

 

“I know a great waffle place we've gotta try.”

  
  
  



	7. Altean seamstress spy Lance, Galtean Keith/Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever since Lance's infamous line about being 'the tailor', I've always had a little idea about her working in sewing. Somehow a spy plot got mixed up in there plus Galtean AU and here we go. Hope y'all like this lol
> 
> trigger warning: mention of wartime rape, but nothing non-consensual.

The hallway to Princess Allura’s chambers are lined with guards. This isn’t an uncommon sight in the least, ever since the war started, the number of guards patrolling the palace has increased by order of the Emperor. Security has been doubled, for the Royal Family are of supreme authority and importance in Daibazaal.

 

None of the security measures can match up to the ones surrounding Princess Allura’s quarters. As Lance walks toward the entrance of her chambers, dressed in the dark purple and black of a servant, she can feel the silent eyes of each sentry following her behind their helmets. Keith had told her that the helmets only enhanced their vision, unlike what she had assumed, the purple stripe across it was an accommodation for the natural night vision of the Galra that shielded their eyes from bright light.

 

Another pair of sentries observe her when she steps into the bright light of Princess Allura’s chambers, pressing her right fist to her heart before curtseying in traditional Altean style then straightening up with a sigh. “Your Highness.”

 

“Lance.” The Princess breathes, before laughing. “Adequate lighting really is such a relief, is it not?”

 

“Absolutely.” Lance says in agreement, smiling. The Princess is a vision in a cream nightgown and teal shawl, matching her white and blue room, the furnishings sleek, wrapped in pastel fabric and lined with cyan light. It is more luxurious than anything Lance ever has had in her humble home back with her family, before the war, Altea in her bright, shining best. In this room, the heavy mantle she must wear feels as light as air.

 

Princess Allura, seated next to a tea table, gestures to the empty seat next to her. “Please sit.” she says, and Lance doesn’t have to be told twice. She envies the Princess’s garments so much. It must be wonderfully freeing for chiffon to flow gently over her skin, to let the fabric breathe, rather than the thick, stuffy wool and metallic garments the Galra prefer so much. Allura’s room is so much warmer, mimicking the pleasant climate of Altea unlike the drafty passageways of the Galran Imperial Palace, and Lance undoes her purple Galran cape - denoting her place as seamstress - to bunch it up on her lap. She’s getting awfully hot with these garments.

 

“I am so glad to have you here with me, Lance.” Princess Allura says, with shining sincere blue eyes, and Lance, moved, takes her hand the Princess has offered on the table. “It is a comfort to know that I am not alone here.”

 

While Royal Advisor Coran had come with the Princess for her wedding to Crown Prince Lotor decaphoebs before, Lance was one of the few remaining Altean servants allowed to stay with her when war broke out. The Galra had no trust for Alteans who they were slaying in the war.

 

“I truly treasure these reprieves, being watched all the time is exhausting.” the Princess says firmly, and Lance’s gaze follows her eyes as she turns her head to stare directly and pointedly at the unmoving sentries perpetually stationed at her door.

 

Lance can’t help a slow smirk spreading on her lips. “I understand completely, your Highness.”

 

Princess Allura pours her a cup of pink juniberry tea, and Lance accepts it gratefully, taking deep breaths of its sweet, soft smell before savouring a single sip and swirling it in her mouth. “Thank you - I’ve missed this so much.” She murmurs, inhaling its scent, which parts the storm clouds of her mind to reveal a clear day.

 

Gently, she sets it down on the table with a _click._ “Your Highness, we need to discuss the design of your gown.  

 

Princess Allura straightens up, her brilliant blue irises catching the shine of the light. “Of course.”

 

Lance matches her gaze before taking in a deep breath, keeping her breathing measured and unchanged. “It will be a style more reminiscent of your personal dresses.”

 

_(On Altea)_

 

“I believe an _off-the-shoulder cut_ will show you off to advantage, despite it not being very Galran.”

 

_(they are planning to attack)_

 

“As is His Highness Prince Lotor’s official colours, it will be made in a _navy_ watered silk, with orange _nightblooms_.”

 

_(The southern landing bay)_

 

“I’m considering a row of _thirteen_ nightblooms on your collar, and ribbon bows on the front.”

 

_(Sector 13)_

 

“I do love ribbons.” Allura murmurs, smiling with her eyes still sharp and bright.

 

“That’s why I added them.” Lance beams. “ _Four_ in a row down the front.”

 

_(Sector 13-4)_

 

“The skirt will flare out evenly from the waist, and reach the ground. _Thirteen_ black diamonds will be sewn onto the hem, with _three_ buttons on each waistcuff and _eight_ sapphires centered on the waist.”

 

_(The thirteenth day of the third phoeb. 0800 hours.)_

 

“I do hope you like it.” Lance says, to which in reply Allura clasps her hands gently together. “It sounds lovely, Lance. Thank you.”

 

They continue chatting about mundane topics, keeping up a facade of normalcy with safe topics that will not be deemed suspicious during wartime in the Galra Empire where they are trapped. It would be telling if Lance left right after only conveying a single message. After an appropriate amount of time has passed, Lance excuses herself, wanting to return to her bed to retire for the night, and Allura nods, bidding her good night. Lance stands up to curtsey to her Princess again, before doing the Galra salute.

 

Her face is neutral as she exits Princess Allura’s chambers, but her heart hammers as quickly as the first time she communicated a coded message in plain sight, the sentries she passes none the wiser.

 

In the hallway she passes Keith, clad in the military fatigues of the Galra officer. He catches her gaze and unholsters the gun from his hip, watching her as he reloads the cartridge. “ _Syl’vek._ ” He leers to her in rough, growling Galran in front of all the sentries, and she lowers her head and leaves as quickly as she can.

 

Her cheeks are flushed, and her heart hammers as she remembers his touch and his lips.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_“We’ll have to keep it a secret. Emperor Zarkon barely tolerates relationships between Alteans and Galra already, now that you’re the enemy we can’t-”_

 

_Keith’s ears point straight up in distress, seeking out any unwanted presences secretly watching their clandestine rendezvous. His claws curl around her shoulders, cradling her carefully so as not to tear through the sleeves of her blue dress. Barely vargas ago, Emperor Zarkon declared war on Altea. Lance grins at him and nods, albeit sadly, pressing her hand to his cheek._

 

_“I know, Keith. I understand.”_

 

_He surges forward to meet her lips in a kiss, before ducking his head to her neck to nip at the sensitive skin there and scent her. “I’m going to miss you.”_

 

 _“I’m going to miss you too, and you're going to be right **there**_   _but I can't touch you..._ _”_

 

_“How are we ever going to meet again?” She murmurs into his hair, her fingers combing through the thick, dark locks. He’s silent in contemplation for a moment, puffing breaths against her neck, before speaking. “I have an idea. But it’s not going to be pleasant.”_

 

_Lance hums. “Go on.”_

 

_“Galran culture is...highly territorial. When it comes to enemy races, we have a history of...conquest, beyond the battlefield, into civilians. Sexual conquest.” Keith grinds out. “It’s extremely distasteful.”_

 

_She nods, but is kind of understanding the point he's getting to. “So now that the Alteans are the enemy, it wouldn’t be suspicious if you did that to me?”_

 

_Keith growls. “Yes. But that’s just so barbaric - you don’t have to agree to it if you don’t want to -”_

 

_“Well, I’m up for it.” She smirks. “If that’s how we can still be together, I don’t mind. Just give me a heads up before you ravish me in public, won’t you?”_

 

_“I won’t-” Keith splutters, cheeks tinged violet. “But how are you okay with this?”_

 

_“It’s not exactly unwanted, if you ask me.” She winks suggestively. “Besides, it’ll be a good way for us to pass messages without discovery. We’ll need it if Altea is to win the war.”_

 

_His ears flattened in defeat. “That’s true.” He mutters reluctantly. “I’ll have to be really rough with you. Throw you around, treat you like dirt, call you Syl’vek, stuff like that.”_

 

_“Syl’vek?”_

 

_“It’s Galra slang for ‘whore’”. Keith explains, blushing deeper._

 

_“Sounds good.” Lance grinned, leaning in for another kiss. “That is one of my kinks, you know.”_

 

_“Is that why you’re dating a Galra?” He teases dryly, eyebrow quirked up._

 

_Her heart warms at the normalcy. “Hmm...yeah. But they come with more benefits than just that~”_

 

_“You’re damn right I do.” Keith rumbles, nipping at her neck again as Lance tilts her head back, savouring the moments sure to be scarce in the near future._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _He never ravishes her_ **_completely_ ** _in public, and Lance thinks it’s adorable. It’s public for all to see as he stalks toward her and grabs her arm, pulling her into a nearby closet as she begs him for mercy._

 

_Away from prying eyes, Lance pulls up her skirts for Keith to dig his claws into the skin of her hips, erect cock rubbing against her folds before plunging inside with a ferocity that makes her cry out._

 

_His pace is fast and unforgiving, an audible slapping sound filling the closet as he ruts harshly into her and she pleads and whimpers, loosening her tongue to be as loud as she can. “No! No, please - nngh - please stop! Stop it! Please! ” Lance wails, hands braced against the wall and moans spilling from her mouth as heat grows in her loins, the distinct curl of pleasure building in her core._

 

_It’s all an act. Mostly._

 

_“Shut up, Syl’vek. This is the only thing you Alteans are good for.” Keith hisses, and Lance involuntarily quivers around his dick. His claws find her clit and rubs it with fast, sharp circles, making her mewl and arch her back. She clamps her hand over her mouth as she hears footsteps, the Galra sentries passing by laughing and sneering as they overhear Keith thrusting into her._

 

_When they are gone, Keith leans in closer, the pace in which he pounds into her slowed down. “The next phoeb, thirteenth, the eighth morning hour. They’re attacking Sector 13-4 of Altea’s southern landing bay.”_

 

_She grabs one of his hands gripping her hips and squeezes in affirmation. He slams her down harder, fucking up against her walls, and she moans and cums, disguising it behind a scream of despair._

 

_His cock is instantly ripped out of her, and she’s thrown (more like kind of pushed?) to the floor. Lance looks up to see Keith stroking his dick rapidly, closing her eyes in reflex as he ejaculates on her face and chest. Their harsh breathing fills the room._

 

_Keith looks utterly wrecked, his hair mussed up and face a deep purple, uniform rumpled from the vigorous sex they just had. Quickly, he crouches to claim a kiss from her lips, before standing up again to mutter “You’re a good fuck, Syl’vek.” and zip himself up before leaving._

 

_Lance wipes his cum off her face, but she will smell like him for the rest of the day and all the galra sentries will notice. She totters out of the room with her head bowed, exaggerating a slight limp with her cunt still gaping, walls aching from his absence._

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THAT'S RIGHT more secret relationships and smut because i do what i want! but please tell me what y'all liked about it and if you'd like me to explore this AU further. especially if this prompt inspired any ideas ^^


	8. Avatar AU, domestic fluff, Keith/Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Blue_Queen662, who requested waterbender Lance + firebender Keith. Married or just dating, whatever interpretation of their relationship is up to you.

Keith is cutting vegetables in the kitchen when Lance drops her chin onto his shoulder and whines. “Keeeeith, I’m hungry.”

 

“Eat something, then.” He says, without even the slightest pause. “There’s fruit and red bean buns.”

 

“I doooooon’t want them. It’s gonna be noon and I want lunch.”

 

“Then cook something.” Keith pushes the carrots to one side and gets to work on the seaweed, slicing them into thin strips.

 

“Okaaaay, can you help me?” Lance simpers, curling her arms around him and nuzzling into his neck. “I want vegetable soup.”

 

“You can light a stove by yourself, right?” Keith deadpans. He’s done with the seaweed by this point, and reaches for the cucumber. “Make that yourself.”

 

“But I need your firebending to make vegetable soup!” Lance protests, hugging him tighter. Keith stills so as not to accidentally jostle and cut himself with the knife. “The good kind, the one with all the flavour but with nice and firm vegetables. C’mon, I’ll make enough for both of us!” She coos.

 

“You mean, _we’ll_ make enough for both of us.”

 

“Yup.” Lance beams. “I’ll be helping!”

 

“Phenomenal.” He replies dryly, pulling a handful of glass noodles into a metal cup. “Cook the rice first, I’ll come help when my salad’s finished.

 

“Okay~” She skips away happily, filling a pot with cups of rice before bending water into it. She pulls her brown hair into a high ponytail then pokes at the stove, shoving more wood into it before looking at Keith expectantly.

 

"Keith."

 

He stares back uncomprehendingly for a moment, the pot of water in one of his hands poised motionless above his cup of noodles. What’s she waiting for? Lance blinks at his lack of reaction, before pointing insistently at the stove. “C’mon, Keith!”

 

When it hits him, he sags forward with an exasperated sigh. “Don’t you know how to use a flint and steel?!”

 

“Yeah, but you can light it faster.” She says simply. “I set my sleeve on fire once! I still have the burn, you know!” She pulls the fabric up to show him a white burn mark splashed on her wrist.

 

Muttering under his breath, Keith sets his cup on the counter and crouches down. With a snap of his fingers, he sets the wood alight, and a hearty fire soon rages. Lance pops up happily and plops the pot over the stove to let it boil. “Thanks, Keith!”

 

Rolling his eyes fondly, Keith pours water into his cup of noodles and goes back to cooking, holding it above the fire lit on his other palm.  

 

His kombu salad is done by the time Lance finishes cooking the rice. Leaning against the counter and eating his salad with chopsticks, he watches Lance take the pot full of freshly cooked white rice off the stove.

 

“Alright, time for the soup-” She turns to him. “You’re gonna help, right?”

 

“I’ll help you when you  _cook_ it.” He clarifies. “You haven’t finished preparing the vegetables.”

 

She pouts at him, sticking her bottom lip out at him as far as it will go. “Meanie.”

 

“How can you say that when I’m already volunteering my firebending out of the goodness of my heart?”

 

“That’s your job as a firebender though! To control the fire!”

 

“And I will.” He says smugly, slurping up a stray glass noodle. “That’s all.”

 

Lance grumbles something about a “lazy butt” as she fetches vegetables and bends water around them to clean them, leaving them in a heap on the cutting board to chop up later. With the last bit of salad scraped into his mouth, Keith leaves his empty ceramic plate and chopsticks on the table. “Call me over when you’re done. I’m gonna get some tea.”

 

“I’d be done much faster if you helped me!” Lance shrieks, but he merely waves to her while leaving.

 

A few minutes later, Lance’s yell of “KEEEEITH” echoes through the house, and he makes his way over to the kitchen again. A pot full of water and chopped vegetables sits on the stove, and beside it Lance is impatiently resting one hand on her hip. She snaps her fingers, pointing to the stove, and Keith complies, lighting the fire with a grin.

 

With a flick of his wrist, the flames reduce considerably, burning at a much lower temperature. Keith peers into the soup and wrinkles his nose. “Why’d you put so much corn? I don’t like corn.”

 

“Well, I _like_ corn and I’m gonna eat all of it.” Lance fires back, the water swirling in tandem to her fingers rotating above the pot, bending the water to her will. “Make the fire hotter, but just a bit. Don’t want it to cook too fast.”

 

They pass the preparation time like that, Keith controlling and restraining the fire while Lance stirs the soup and occasionally tastes it, nibbling a small chunk of vegetable from time to time. The mouthwatering aroma of the soup soon fills the kitchen and Lance licks her lips. She chews a piece of potato, throws in a pinch of pepper and a few drops of soya sauce before the taste is right.

 

“It’s done!” She deems, lifting the pot off the stove. Lance extinguishes the fire by bending water into it and the stove fills with steam. When she turns around, the pot of soup is already on the small dining table and Keith is digging into his rice with chopsticks, chewing on a chunk of minced meat.

 

Lance hops onto her own seat as he blows over a spoonful of soup and tastes it. “How is it? Good?”

 

“Mmm.” Keith hums, mouth full. She preens and samples her own cooking, making a happy noise as the delicious taste coats her tongue and her teeth sink into a wonderfully firm piece of carrot. Soft, but not too soft. Just the way she likes it.

 

“You’re gonna do the dishes later, right.” He says to her inbetween mouthfuls of rice, and her chopsticks pause on the way to her mouth.

 

“Why me?!”

 

“You’re a waterbender. It makes sense.” Keith points out with a smirk.

 

“You - !” Lance splutters, elbowing him in the side which he quickly dodges, laughing. “I cooked the rice and did all the work for the soup!”

 

“But I _helped_ .” He points out insufferably, before relenting with another chuckle as she bends and flicks droplets of soup at his face. “Okay, okay, I’ll do the washing up. _If_ you help.”

 

“Fine.” She huffs, going back to her food. She feels a light _thunk_ on her forehead, and looks up to see Keith having gently bumped his head against hers, violet eyes looking at her fondly. With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, she pecks a kiss on his forehead.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did picture some exciting bending fighting between the two, but ultimately I wanted a cute oneshot about both of them using their bending to cook.


	9. Reincarnated Lover, Vampire AU, Shiro/Lance

_I have something very important to show you_ , Shiro had texted her.

 

In a cute, baggy white shirt, denim shorts and sandals, Lance felt very out of place in her boyfriend’s manor. Yup, _manor._ His family was filthy rich, parents occupied in their work back in Japan. The Japanese-style house towered over neighbouring buildings of steel and glass, rooted in its traditions of curved black roof tiles and grey walls, the zen gardens a white sea of smooth, miniscule pebbles among rich green bushes.

 

Shiro was dressed in a loose black jacket over a white shirt, and grey jeans when she arrived. He could have camouflaged right into the exterior. Despite how casual he looked, he fit right in. With a warm smile just for her, he took her hand and drew her in. Slipping her feet into the house slippers provided, Lance padded across the dark wooden floors and jogged up to his side.

 

“I always forget how nice this place looks. I feel so underdressed!” Lance joked. “Next time I should come in my formal dress, or something.”

 

“You don’t have to be anything but yourself.” Shiro assured her. “I want you to feel completely comfortable here.”

 

She giggled in relief, winding her arm around his and pressing their bodies together as they walked.

 

“What’s the colour of your dress, besides?” Shiro asked.

 

“Blue.”

 

"I'd love to see you in it." Shiro murmured, bending down to kiss the top of her forehead. "You look so beautiful in blue."

 

Her heart softened. He really loved her.

 

They walked past paper and wood _shoji_ walls, to their right a low, ornately carved wooden fence encasing small zen gardens that opened up to the sky. “So, what did you want to show me?”

 

“I need to show you my treasures.”

 

Lance felt her mouth go dry. “Oh.” It really was an important occasion. “I really should have dressed nicer.”

 

“No matter, no matter.” Shiro murmured. He had a habit of lapsing into fancy speak, as if he were a character from a Jane Austen novel or a historical drama or something. Stopping in front of the paper doors, Shiro slid it open and led her inside, Lance’s arm still securely tucked around his.

 

It appeared to be a vast treasure vault of some sort. The walls that weren’t _shoji_ were cream and the _tatami_ was a pleasantly warm beige. The longer wall of the room had a circular window cut into it, a delicate arrangement of a sapphire lily held in a white and blue porcelain vase. Painted plates, ink paintings and calligraphy scrolls adorned the walls, each section devoted to a single work of art to let them shine on their own. Lance held her breath instinctively once inside. The back of the paper doors were no longer plain paper and wood frames, but an ink-painted mountain scenery cut in half. It felt like she was in a sacred place of untold riches.

 

“There are family heirlooms we keep.” Shiro said, gesturing around him with his prosthetic arm. “For centuries the Shirogane family has held these in our possession.”

 

“They’re beautiful.” Lance murmured, her voice hushed. She tried to let go of his arm to move closer to the treasures displayed, but he kept a firm yet gentle grip on her. “Not those.”

 

He led her deeper into the room, toward the final wall on the left. Displayed on a dark wood frame was an exquisite kimono of glimmering lapis-blue brocade, stamped with a repeating pattern of some sort of family symbol. A cloud of white butterflies above lilies were embroidered in frozen mid-flight across it. Lance’s fingers curled around his arm, slowly taking in the intricate detail of every stitch.

 

“This is - wow. This is amazing.” Lance couldn’t keep her eyes off it. She just wanted to stand there and drink in every detail of the magnificent robe. “Was this...your mother’s? Your grandmother’s?” She guessed.

 

“No.” Shiro said. “It used to be mine.” His voice was soft and reverent. With her eyes glued in front of her, Lance missed his gaze trained onto her, drinking in her expression. With a tap to her arm, he walked her to the side of the kimono and let go of her momentarily to open a floor-to-ceiling cupboard she hadn't realized was there, its handles silver.

 

He stepped back to let her see it. Inside was a dress the exact vivid hue of the kimono, only that this one looked different. It lacked any Japanese elements, the bodice tight with a blue ruffle across its round, low collar, skirt flaring out voluminously to end in more rows of frills. Framed on the wall was a painted portrait of a woman.

 

Lance stared. The woman depicted wasn’t Japanese. She had caramel skin and long, chocolate hair in an elegant bun, dressed in a dress as blue as the one displayed - the exact same dress, Lance realized, the woman’s dainty collarbones, slender neck and pointed face on show. A hint of a smile played on the edges of her lips, and her eyes were the same colour of her dress.

 

No, scratch that. Her dress was the same colour of her eyes.

 

Whoever this woman was, she either was very wealthy or had someone who admired her eyes a whole lot.

 

“She was part of my family.” Shiro went on, his tone fond and oddly...longing? “Elena Andrea Mariposa.”

 

That name sounded strangely familiar. “Your great-great grandmother, maybe?” Lance ventured.

 

Shiro didn’t answer, but stepped away to the cupboard on the right of the kimono, identical to the one he had just opened. Inside was another framed image, but it was a black-and-white photograph this time.

 

The first thing Lance noticed was that the woman in the portrait was also in the photograph. Her hair was still done up, but it looked more Japanese, with a tortoiseshell comb in her coiffure. She was wearing a kimono with light butterflies splashed across the sleeves, holding a small child with dark, straight hair and large eyes identical to hers.

 

Lance stared at the person she posed next to.

 

He was tall, a good head taller than Elena, and dressed in a thin-striped kimono with a black haori over it. His hair was completely dark, shaved close to his head except for a suspiciously familiar lock of hair in the center. A jagged scar ran across his nose.

 

Shiro.

 

The man - He looked exactly like Shiro.

 

A nervous giggle broke out of Lance. “He looks just like you.” She said. “Grandfather? Great-grandfather?” 

 

She didn’t understand. Why did the person in the photograph look so much like Shiro? “Strong family resemblance, huh?” She mumbled.

 

Now that she took a closer look, why did the woman look like _her?_ Mariposa - butterfly, but it sounded familiar - Dad’s name was McClain, Mom’s was Sanchez, but Abuela -

 

Abuela’s last name was Mariposa.

 

“I loved her name.” Shiro said distantly. “But I like your full name better. It’s Allana, right?”

 

Lance took a step back hesitantly, the cold feeling of fear creeping into her gut.. “Y-Yeah-”

 

His grey eyes bore into her, capturing her gaze. “They sound the same. You look just like her. You act just like her. Her great-great-granddaughter.”

 

“You asked me who she was.” Shiro said, taking a step forward like a predator. “She was my wife until she succumbed to a mortal death. She didn't want to stay. Didn't want to be turned, and I loved her, so I let her be. But now you’re here.”

 

Lance edged away. “Shiro-”

 

“You came back to me.” Grey eyes filling her vision flashed red, the pink of his scar, teeth that turned into fangs. “I'm not making the same mistake again.”

 

Lance screamed when he lunged forward and caught her, her hands helpless to his strength as he sank his fangs into her neck. She struggled fruitlessly in his grasp as he drained her blood, pushing his essence into her soul, until finally falling limp in his arms. Her blood tasted just as lovely and sweet as he remembered. 

 

Lance looked identical to her. Acted just like her.

 

His Elena. His Allana. One and the same.

 

“You're safe now.” He murmured, stroking her back with her in his grasp. Her dull blue eyes clouded over with red, before returning to its original vibrant shade. Nothing would take her away from him, disease, injury, or the all-consuming passage of time.

 

He pressed a kiss to her lips. “ _Ore no Ai. Allana._ Who am I?”

 

She stirred in his arms, cheek pressed to his front. “ _Takashi_.”

 

He smiled, all fangs.

 

“ _Okaerinasai.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ore no Ai - My Love  
> Okaerinasai - Welcome Home


End file.
